


The Winds of Change

by murmeltearding



Series: The Journey [2]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Chocolate, Coffee, Domestic Fluff, Drinking, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, F/M, Fear, Fire, Fluff and Smut, Fucking, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Hangover, Healing, Home Invasion, Humiliation, Language, Making Out, Menstruation, Negan Being Negan (Walking Dead), Nutella, Pain, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Power Dynamics, Protective Negan (Walking Dead), Sloppy Makeouts, Smut, Snow, Violence, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:34:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28913178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murmeltearding/pseuds/murmeltearding
Summary: Negan and Alana believe they have finally found some safety and time to breathe in Negan's cabin in the Woods.Some other people don't think so though.
Relationships: Negan (Walking Dead)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Journey [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2089794
Comments: 20
Kudos: 12





	1. Add one more Bad Thing to the Apocalypse

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is the second installment of my Negan Story.  
> As I wrote before, this second installment is going to be a lot more violent. Negan is going to be brought to his breaking point and maybe even over, over the course of his story. Alana as well. They're both going to change.  
> Honeymoon's over.

We had a couple quiet days after that, full of love and exploring and snuggling up in a cold bed with each other.

Yesterday, Negan had managed to shoot a rabbit, which he had skinned and dismembered out back while I had hidden inside the cabin, because the sounds and smells of it had made me gag.

Now it was my turn to contribute to our full bellies. I stood in the kitchen and was cutting onions and preparing the meat for a stew, while Negan was bent over a book, sitting at the kitchen table.

A batter against the door made us both look up. We kept the shutters closed at all hours of the day, so there was no seeing who was outside.

“Open the door!” came a not too friendly sounding shout.

Negan, after checking with me, got up and made sure his pistol was in his belt. He opened the door just a crack and the barrel of a rifle was pushed into his face.

Shit.

I stepped towards my shotgun, but before I could grab it, three guys, each equipped with a rifle, had pushed inside. There were more of them outside, waiting.

“Hands up in the air,” the first one, a tall, blond fella a couple years Negan’s junior demanded. His rifle was pointed at Negan. His friend, equally tall and with somewhat darker hair, pointed his rifle at me. They wore matching red jackets with a bunch of Greek letters on them.

“What do you want?” Negan calmly said, clearly showing he wouldn’t be scared by a couple college kids.

The blond guy, the leader, obviously, gave the third, a shorter guy, who looked a little older, a sign with his head.

He pointed his rifle at Negan and the leader let his own sink back down, putting it on his back by the strap. “You’re stealing our water!” he said just as calmly.

“Your water?” Negan raised an eyebrow.

“The land the spring is on belongs to my family.” He seemed to be awfully proud of that fact.

“Well, it’s not like there’s a finite amount of water!” Negan tried to be reasonable. “And circumstances being as they are…”

“You destroyed our property by taking down the wire,” the kid interrupted him. “Spring’s on our land, which means you’re stealing our water,” he insisted.

Walking through the cabin, he looked around curiously. “Comfy place you got here.” He took a couple steps towards me, looking into the pans on the stove in a casual way, like there were no rifles pointed at Negan and me. “What are you making, pretty?”

“Your balls, fried up, if you get any closer,” I muttered, tightening my grip on the knife I had just been cutting onions with.

That made him chuckle. “I’d be careful if I had a rifle pointed at me and my friend and a bunch more just waiting outside for their order, but,” he shrugged, “that’s just me.”

I growled at him in reply.

“Be a dear, put away the knife,” he said, taking my hand and forcing my fingers open. “Make you a deal,” he focused back on Negan, “keep on taking our water and I get to spend the night with your girl. She’s not the prettiest I ever had, but,” he shrugged, “it’s been a while…”

“Fuck you,” I spat.

“Yea, that’s what I’ll do, fuck you all night long!”

I gritted my teeth and forced myself to smile at him while my hand wandered towards the handle of the cast iron pan on the stove. Without hesitation, I slammed it into his face, hot as it was, hard as I could.

It made a satisfying clonk-noise.

He took a step backwards and rubbed his face where I had hit him. The skin looked red and angry and his eyes took on the same anger. He grabbed my chin with rough fingers, pushing thumb and forefinger into my cheeks and stared deep into my eyes for a second before he slapped me so hard, I had to hold on to the counter to keep my balance.

Fuck, that had hurt. I blinked away tears.

“Don’t fucking touch her,” Negan growled.

The leader moved back to where Negan and the two guys stood. “You’d rather I touch you instead? Like a big fat hero? Protecting your woman at all costs?”

“I’d rather you just fucked off…”

“Not gonna happen, buddy. She just made shit personal!”

If Negan was scared, he didn’t show it. “What do you want?”

“The night with her…”

“She already told you what she thinks about that,” Negan said.

“… for me and my brothers one after another!” The roar of his men interrupted him and he let them roar for a couple seconds before cutting them off with a gesture of his hand. “It stinks like sex in here, she’s yours, that’s why I’m asking you about it!”

“This isn’t the 18th century, buddy,” Negan said, emphasizing the last word. “Even if we’re fucking, she still belongs to herself. And she already told you what she thinks about your offer.” He paused. “Listen, I’ll make you a deal for the water. We got well filled stores… take what you want and then leave us the fuck alone! Alana, show them.”

I did as Negan had asked and opened the cabinets one by one.

Cans upon cans of beans and veggies were stacked in them, next to bags of noodles and rice and flour.

“I don’t care for your shit.” The leader moved back towards me and put his arm around my waist, closing the cabinets one by one. He picked my hunting knife out of its sheath and turned towards me. “Good quality knife,” he said, holding it between the two of us. His breath smelled of booze and minty chewing gum. “Looks sharp as well… Should we give it a try?” He pressed the blade against my cheek.

I forced myself to hold his gaze while my hand moved on the counter, behind his back, towards the kitchen knife I’d dropped earlier.

“Leave her the fuck alone!” Negan growled, taking a step towards me.

Both rifles were pointed at him and safeties snapped off, the sound awfully loud in the small room.

“I’d be very careful, buddy,” the leader said to Negan. He slowly pulled the knife along my cheek and I felt the blade bite through my skin. “I don’t know why seeing a woman bleed always makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside,” he whispered. And then, almost too fast to see, he turned and rammed the knife into the kitchen counter, about half a finger’s breadth from my hand, so hard, the tip remained stuck in the wood.

My heart skipped a beat. He could have hit my hand if he had wanted to.

“Get up on there,” he said, shoving me towards the kitchen table.

Yea, alright, he wasn’t to be toyed with. I caught myself against one of the chairs and stepped first on the chair, then at the table, awkwardly standing there, looking down on everyone.

“Sit the asshole on that chair and bind his hands.” The evil grin he shot Negan bode ill for me. “Enjoy!”

Negan’s and my gazes met as he was pushed to his chair and his hands were bound behind his back. What was that asshole planning? My heart raced. The guys from outside slowly came in one by one.

Suddenly I was cold, despite being so close to the stove.

What were they going to do to me?

“Take off your pants,” the leader ordered, “and your shirt!”

A low growl from Negan’s direction made me look at him.

“What are you waiting for?” His question obviously was directed at me, but he gestured at his guys and one slammed the handle of his gun against the side of Negan’s face.

Wincing in secondhand pain, I toed off my shoes and unbuckled my pants, my gaze firmly fixed on Negan.

“If you do as you’re told, like the good girl I know you are, no one needs to get hurt,” blondie said, sitting down in the other chair, feet up on the table, watching me.

The men, seven, all in all, moved to surrounded the table watching me from every side. “Shirt too,” the leader ordered, leaning back in his chair, putting his hands up to make a hammock for his head.

My hands were shaking as I pulled my shirt over my head, gaze still on Negan. A small trickle of blood made its way down the side of his face and he looked dazed, but he was awake.

I dropped my shirt to the table below me and one of the men grabbed for it, greedily sniffing it, before another stole it from the first one.

“Now dance!” the leader ordered.

“What?”

“Dance! And stop staring at that fucker! Look at me! Like you’re doing this only for me! Like you fucking enjoy it!”

I inhaled deeply. Dance…

Alright, I could do this. I could just dance for them for a bit and then they’d leave us alone. Just dance.

I closed my eyes and imagined music in my head, trying my hardest to block out the noises the men all around me made.

“Hey! Hey! Open your eyes, bitch! Look at me!” the leader barked, kicking my lower leg. Hard.

My knee, wobbly as I felt exposed on the table, gave out from his kick and I dropped to all fours, looking directly at him, shaking.

“Get up and dance, you fucking bitch!” Spittle flew in my face as he screamed at me.

Next to him, Negan was slapped with the handle of a rifle again. His face was starting to swell up as I dared to look at him for just a second, before focusing back on the leader. It took everything I had in me to hide the hate and disgust I was feeling for him. I wanted to jump and throttle him instead of dancing on this stupid table.

A hand was shoved between my thighs from behind. I practically jumped to my feet and turned around, looking for whoever the hand had belonged to, but of course, everyone was just standing there, watching, laughing.

I gritted my teeth and willed myself to stay cool, trying to blink away the tears that threatened to fill my eyes.

“Look, don’t touch Lonny! Be a gentleman for once in your life,” the leader scolded.

I turned back towards him silently pleading for him to stop this, but he made no sign to stop anything. “Go on! Faster! Shake your fucking tits, before I make you take off everything!”

This was met with another roar from his men and someone slapped my ass.

“Leave her the fuck alone, you sick son of a whore!” Negan growled, struggling against his binds.

“Start packing up their stuff, Lonny! You don’t fucking deserve this treat,” the leader muttered, seeming annoyed as well. He motioned for me to come closer and I crouched down, mindful of the assholes behind me. “My apologies for that. Lonny’s a fucking imbecile!”

I gritted my teeth to stop my lips from quivering. There were too many tears now to blink them away. I angrily wiped at my face, dropping to my knees.

I couldn’t believe this was really happening. This was worse than anything Micah could ever have done…

“Oh what is it dear? Too much? Come, sit down on my lap,” the leader said.

I didn’t move.

“You either sit on my lap or you dance. Your choice,” he shrugged. “You, start packing things up as well!” he ordered the rest of his men.

Sounds of disappointment came from all around me.

“Please, just leave me alone,” I whispered.

He seemed to consider my plea for a second, then shook his head, grinning at me broadly. “Get back up! Dance for me and your guy! He seems to be enjoying himself, no?”

“Fuck you,” Negan said. His gaze was fixed on me, trying to give me strength.

I weakly pushed myself back up to my feet, trying to block out the sounds of our cabinets being emptied. Among them, they would quickly finish. This would all be over in a minute. I could endure one more minute.

The leader got up and motioned for me to come closer.

I carefully stepped towards him and he grabbed my ass and pulled me against him, so his face hit my crotch.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” I screamed, slapping his head and struggling to push him away.

“Leave her alone you sick, fucking bastard!” Negan shouted, kicking at him from the side.

Blondie stumbled sideways with the impact. He only took a second to collect himself though and wordlessly turned towards Negan, punching him in the jaw hard enough the chair toppled over with Negan on it.

“Get off the table!” he barked at me. “Fucking bitch! Go sit down there before I lose my patience!”

I got to the ground on shaky legs, but obviously wasn’t fast enough, for he gave me a shove towards the wall, hard enough I stumbled and half fell over Negan.

I didn’t dare say anything, just moved towards Negan as silently and as quickly as I could, making sure he was alright.

He was conscious, but barely so. His nose was bleeding and his eye was almost swollen shut. I carefully put his head on my lap and held him while the fucking asshole fraternity emptied our cabinets.

As I had foretold, it didn’t take them more than a few minutes. They each walked out with arms heavily laden with our stuff.

“It was a pleasure meeting you,” the leader said, bending over us, once more, before he left, slamming the door closed behind him.

I didn’t waste a second and almost fell over my own feet as I ran to turn the key and lock the door, before moving back to Negan.

They had zip tied his hands together and the sharp plastic had dug its way into his wrists with his struggles. I cut him loose and helped him sit up.

“Are you alright?” I whispered, hugging him tightly.

He slowly nodded. There was determination in his eyes and anger like I had never seen before. “I’m going to find those fuckers and I’m going to bust their fucking asses one by one,” he muttered, looking into the distance. Then he looked at me and his gaze softened. He let his thumb move over the cut on my cheek, wiping away blood and tears and wrapped his arms around me. “This is my fucking fault,” he whispered, “I should have protected you. I’m sorry.”

I squeezed myself against him tighter for just a second and shook my head. “I hit him first… it’s my fault…”

We remained on the ground a few minutes longer, digesting what had just happened, holding each other. We were alive and mostly unharmed. Things were okay. We could always get more food. Everything would be okay.

Slowly getting up, I picked up my shirt from the ground.

Remembering how they each had sniffed it in turn, I dropped it again. I didn’t want to put it back on. I wanted a wash and my bed and something cold for Negan’s face.

Were we still allowed to take water from the spring? We had paid them for it with all of our food and… some of our dignity, had we not?

I picked up my pants from the ground and slipped them on, taking a few steps towards the bedroom and stopping.

The fuckers had upset both our water-buckets. Now that had been fucking unnecessary. It just added insult to injury. Fucking assholes.

Negan joined me, looking at the wet floor, putting an arm around my waist.

Shaking my head, I stepped out of his grasp and over the puddle and went to get a clean shirt from the bedroom. Opening the doors to my wardrobe, looking at my three shirts trying to choose which one to put on, I felt my strength drain from me.

I had to sit down on the bed, hugging myself. Never in my life had I felt so… violated. How could a bunch of strangers just come into our house, our home, and… and treat us like that? Who gave them the right? And who would stop them from doing it again?

For all I knew, they’d be outside, watching our every move and just wait till we went back into town to get more food… or just wait till we took our first steps out the door…

I heard Negan pick up the buckets.

“Wait,” I muttered, quickly taking the topmost shirt and putting it on. If I allowed myself to wallow, I would never go back to normal. “I’ll go with you.” I didn’t think I could bear being alone in this moment. I needed Negan with me. And I needed my shotgun.

I put on my shoes and jacket and hung my shotgun over my shoulder.

Negan handed me one of the buckets and we stepped outside.


	2. Another Trip to Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their last, less than pleasant adventure, Negan and Alana deserve some rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter will be a little lighter, with one minor sad detail... and some silliness... I hope you didn't find the last chapter too hard to bear... because there sure as hell is worse to come!

I felt like there were eyes on me from the moment I set foot out the door. I forced myself to keep my back straight and my shoulders relaxed. If they really were watching us, I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of having scared us.

Even though we did our best to make brave faces, we took twice as long as we usually would to get to the spring, hearing and seeing things where there were none. 

A new fence had been posted around the spring, with two rounds of barbed wire instead of one.

“Can you get over it?” I asked.

Negan measured up the fence and nodded before carefully stepping over the wire and crouching down to fill our buckets.

I kept watch, scanning our surroundings, shotgun in hand. It was almost dark, but my eyes were used to it.

Something to our right moved.

I had my gun up and aimed in half a second, prepared for the worst… but it was only a zombie.

“It’s alright,” I muttered, letting my gun sink down again and taking my knife instead. A second zombie appeared behind the first one, both moving towards us.

Suddenly I was angry. At the zombies, at myself but most of all at those frat boys. Couldn’t they just have left us in peace? Weren’t the zombies bad enough? Hadn’t enough people died already?

Since I obviously didn’t stand a chance against the fraternity of assholes, I had to make do with the next best thing to vent my rage, which were the zombies. With purposeful steps I closed the distance between them and me and stabbed the first one through the eye, angrily shoving it backwards, off my knife before I moved on to the other one.

Putting my knife back into its sheath, I picked up a stick from the ground, about as thick as my arm. I had a lot of anger to work through. Stabbing wasn’t going to do the trick.

Brandishing my club left to right, I cleanly took off the second zombie’s head. It landed a few feet away. The body toppled over sideways and I pinned it to the ground with my stick through its stomach.

Looking at the dead body under me, I hesitated for a second and then pulled the stick back out and started slamming it down on the zombie again and again. Blood sprayed everywhere as its stomach ripped and its innards practically exploded under my treatment, but I wasn’t done venting yet. I moved on to the first zombie I’d killed who was conveniently leaning against a tree and slammed his head to a mush until my club broke off in my hands.

I stood over my victims, breathing hard, looking down at the mess I had made.

“You done?” Negan softly asked.

I turned towards his voice. “No, but there’s no more zombies,” I muttered. “And I broke my stick…”

“Get washed up,” he muttered, “and then let’s go home.”

He was all calm, so I could be calm as well, right? Deep breaths. In and out. In and out.

I slipped off my jacket and washed my shaking hands and face in the shallow rivulet that flowed down from the spring.

The icy water felt good. I let a few handfuls trickle over the back of my neck, enjoying the cold shivers it sent through my body and washed my arms almost all the way up to my shoulders. I knew I wasn’t physically dirty, yet I felt the irresistible urge to keep on washing. I scrubbed at my face and downwards over my cleavage and at the exposed back of my neck even though I knew it was my mind that wanted cleansing.

Crouching before the water, breathing hard, I stopped moving, staring at the dark ground. There were too many emotions inside my head.

Anger, fear, desperation,… love, hunger, craving. Wait a minute. I counted the days inside my head. “Today’s the 23rd, right?” I asked Negan.

“Yea, I think so… why?”

“I think I’ll get my period soon.”

Negan looked at me for a second and then broke out laughing. “So this…” he pointed at the mess of zombies on the ground, “is how you act when you get your period? Damn, I better be fucking careful for the next couple days!”

Watching him, made me start laughing too. “Well, not normally, but this is special circumstances…”

“Must be, because I never noticed you killing anyone back home…”

I moved towards him and lightly punched him in the arm. “Don’t make fun of me!”

“I wouldn’t dare,” he chuckled, handing me his jacket. Mine was full of zombie goo. I’d clean it tomorrow when there was daylight again.

I slipped it on and deeply inhaled his scent, not making a secret out of it.

+++

Half an hour later, we were both in bed. Negan had wanted to keep watch in the living room, but I had told him he was needed in the bed. I’d rather have him sleep next to me and risk dying in his arms than have him watching for danger while I was safely tucked into bed, but all by my lonesome.

“Seems sensible,” he muttered, wrapping his arms around me and kissing the top of my head.

+++

_Dark shapes all around me… two, three, five… reaching towards me with not tentacle-like arms. Their touch is cold, unpleasant. It makes me shiver. The counter in my café materializes. Right behind them._

_Pushing them to the side, I move towards the counter. I want to climb over it, behind it, to safety._

_I’m up on the counter. Big mistake. There are a lot more than just five of them. How had I overlooked them? They are everywhere. Towards the door, towards the back room… Ten? Twenty? All moving towards me, groaning, moaning…_

_I need to get behind my counter, but the space is filled with water! Faces are swimming in the water, caught beyond the surface, staring up at me, reaching for me… So many arms, coming towards me from all sides…_

_“Let go! Fuck let me go!”_

+++

“Alana... Alana, wake up!”

“Let me go!” I gripped the arms that had wrapped around my waist and…

“Alana! Shhh… Calm down! It was only a dream!”

I pushed away Negan’s arms around me. My shirt was soaked with sweat. My heart was racing.

“It’s alright… you’re alright! It was only a dream,” he repeated.

I sighed in relief, but rolled away from Negan anyways. All those arms… Fuck!

+++

The goo on my jacket had frozen overnight and peeled right off in the morning, leaving nothing but a bunch of stains. Our attackers had been thorough in cleaning out our stores and had, in addition to that, kindly slashed all the tires on our car, which meant we would get a nice morning walk before we could have anything to eat. As if that wouldn’t be enough, it had started to snow overnight and gotten freezing cold.

I wrapped my poncho tighter around my shoulders, hugging myself, but the icy wind bit through my clothes as if I were wearing nothing at all.

Negan didn’t fare any better. His ears were frozen red by the time we made it to town. On top of that, the whole left side of his face was a mess of black and blue bruises. It must hurt like a bitch.

+++

We reached the store undisturbed by zombies. Whatever had happened to them, killed or wandered off, they were gone, as was most everything in the store. Except for a few loafs of moldy bread and some equally moldy vegetables, the shelves looked empty.

Tossing the bread I’d just inspected towards the back of the store, I dropped down on the bottom of one of the shelves, crossing my arms, pouting and feeling sorry for myself.

Negan didn’t get discouraged so easily and moved farther into the back, broken glass crunching under his feet at every step.

When he came back to join me at the front a few minutes later, he held a dented box of chocolates towards me. “They forgot that one,” he muttered, sitting down next to me and kissing me. “Figured you’d need them…”

“I want to say that’s a rumor, but…” I snatched them from his hand and put them in my backpack. “Thank you,” I whispered.

“You’re very welcome.”

We stepped out of the store. Still hungry, still cold. The sky was overcast and promised more snow.

“You ever broke into a house?” Negan said.

“Umm… No?” I chuckled. “You?” His small gift had lightened my mood despite the mess we were in.

He shook his head. “Or does that garage on our first evening count?”

I nodded. “Definitely!”

“Well then…” he shrugged.

We moved off along the street closest to the store, holding hands. The houses all had nice front yards and big garages. We would surely find food in one of them and maybe a new car as well.

The first house, white, big, imposing, had already been broken in by someone before us. The front door had a fist sized hole in the glass pane closest to the handle.

We unanimously decided to skip that one.

We were luckier at the second house. The door was locked and all the windows looked whole. “There’s probably walking dead inside,” Negan warned, positioning himself to knock in the glass with Lucille.

I nodded and gripped the handle of my knife.

The shattering glass sounded incredibly loud in the general stillness of the town. We waited, but no sound came from inside.

Negan reached in to unlock the door and opened it, carefully moving into the building, listening, waiting for any kind of noise.

I pushed the door closed behind us so at least no zombies from outside could follow us. “I’ll check upstairs,” Negan said. “You stay down here.”

I nodded. “Look for warm clothes too.”

“Will do.”

I moved through the living room, letting my fingers brush over the comfy looking couch, and longingly looked at the stacks and stacks of CDs next to the stereo. Except for the emergency broadcast that kept on repeating the same message over and over since day one, we hadn’t had anything to fill the silence in almost two weeks.

I had grown up with constant noise in the city. Now, the world had turned silent.

Sighing, I moved on and stepped into the kitchen. A big, oval dining table and six chairs took up most of the middle of the room. An L-shaped kitchen unit went along the walls.

A noise from upstairs made me stop. “You alright?” I called.

“All good!” came Negan’s short answer.

I stepped through the kitchen and, out of habit, opened the fridge.

Big mistake.

Power had been out for more than a week now. Gagging, I closed the door again and opened the window to let out the stink.

Yea, I’d refrain from opening fridges in the future…

The cabinets and small storage room were a lot better. Flour, rice, noodles, jars upon jars of what looked like homemade tomato sauce and fruit preserves galore. Even some wine and booze. And… joy of all joys: A big jar of Nutella.

I found a spoon in one of the many drawers and sat down on the floor. My mouth watered as I opened the jar and took up a big heap.

I might or might not have whimpered.

Negan came downstairs a minute later, carrying arms full of clothes. He dropped everything on the dining table and looked at me. “I’m upstairs, killing zombies while you’re sitting here, eating Nutella? Are you serious?”

“You said you were alright!”

He sat down next to me and plucked my spoon from between my fingers, licking it off himself.

“MINEEE!” I grabbed for the spoon but he held it out of my reach so I had to stretch over his lap. He bent down over me and kissed me deeply, his mouth tasting like Nutella.

“You think you can distract me,” I muttered, pushing him away, reaching for the spoon again.

“What if I did?” he whispered, giving me the spoon and kissing my neck, letting his hands slide under my shirt.

“It might…” I resettled myself on his lap and put my head backwards, giving him easier access, ”… just work.” I allowed him to kiss me a moment longer, moving downwards over the top of my breasts, pushing my shirt down with him. “I found wine,” I whispered.

Negan grinned at me. “You think you can just get me drunk and have your way with me?”

I nodded, grinning back at him.

“We’d have to try,” he innocently shrugged.

“Yes. We really should,” I said, letting my hand move over his crotch while licking my spoon in what I hoped was a suggestive way.

Negan laughed. Then he froze, looking at something behind me. “What are you doing, standing there, watching us like a fucking creep?” he asked.

I turned and realized Simon was standing in the dining room, looking down at us.

Slowly I got to my feet, reaching for Negan to help him up as well.

“Grandma’s dead,” Simon said without prelude.

“What?” I swallowed. “How?”

“She… I forgot to lock the door and she…” He sounded close to tears.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Negan said, putting his arm around Simon’s shoulders for just a moment.

“I had to fucking shoot her… couldn’t just let her walk around as one of them, could I?”

Shit.

I shook my head. I didn’t much care for Simon, but… having to kill his own grandmother… I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.

Negan made Simon sit down on the sofa. I got the booze I’d spotted in the closet, found glasses in the kitchen and put everything on the living room table.

“She raised me,” Simon muttered. “My whore of a mother ran off when I was five and…” He stopped and hid his face in his hands.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, putting my hand on his back. “Did you… bury her?”

He looked up and wiped his nose on the back of his hand. “Back yard,” he muttered. “She’d have loved that.”

I nodded. “I’m sure.”

Negan poured us a measure of Scotch each and Simon greedily took his glass, downing it in one swig. I raised my glass. “To Granny Smith,” I said.

“To Granny Smith,” Negan joined in.

We drank together for a while and when I felt it was enough, I went upstairs to find a bed for the night. Everything was twisting and turning under my feet and I felt a little nauseous.

Alana, the great drinker, everyone!

Negan had warned me not to go into the master bedroom as there were two dead bodies inside, but he had failed to mention which door was the master bedroom, so I, of course, stumbled in on them.

Groaning, I closed the door again and took the next one. Bathroom. Good to know that as well.

Third time seemed to be the charm. The guestroom smelled dusty, but there was a cover on the bed and the sheets were clean.

Clumsily I took off my pants and fell into bed, exhausted, dizzy, nauseous. As soon as I closed my eyes, the world seemed to topple over. This wasn’t what I’d had in mind when I’d suggested to get drunk with Negan.

I didn’t know how much later it was when the door opened again. I hadn’t yet fallen asleep… I thought. Or maybe I had and the noise of someone coming up the stairs had woken me up again.

Negan took off his pants and joined me in bed, wrapping his arms around me from behind.

I relaxed against him… when the door opened again.

What the fuck?

How drunk was I?

Another set of pants were taken off. Another someone laid down in bed, to my other side.

“Dold ya de bed woood be big enough for three,” Simon said from behind me.

“Jesus fucking Christ, what are you doing here?” I shouted, sitting up and getting out of his embrace.

“Told ya to take offff your hands off Alana,” Negan slurred. “Come here, doll, come to me.” He patted the bed next to him.

I moved towards and over him, fully intending to find another place to sleep, but… it would be cold wherever else I went and I had just gotten the blanket warmed.

Sighing, I pushed Negan to the middle of the bed and got comfortable, snuggling against him. With him as a barrier slash heating device, the night in bed with Simon would be halfway bearable… hopefully.


	3. Fire!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just... fire...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went over this chapter what feels like a million times, to the point where I can no longer say whether it's good or not, so I'll just simply post it the way it is... I never want to see the stupid first couple sentences of this chapter ever again! They'll be forever imprinted in my brain as it is...

I was rudely woken up by something slapping me in the face.

Negan was stirring next to me, his arm had been what had woken me. He was taking up most of the bed, laying diagonally across the mattress.

Groaning, I pushed him away.

It was broad daylight and it was cold as shit. The room smelled of the transpirations of three drunk people and stale cigarette smoke.

Rubbing my eyes, I sat up, pulling the blanket around my shoulders, leaving Negan’s long legs bare to the cold. Simon was on the floor, next to the bed, snoring, tightly wrapped in the second blanket.

Negan stirred and half woke up, pulling the blanket back over himself.

I let him. The much too familiar sensation in my lower abdomen was much more important anyways.

Squeezing everything inside of me together, I jumped to my feet.

Please, please, please let there be female products in the bathroom! There had been women’s shoes downstairs, there had to be female products as well!

Joy of joys, there were! I could practically hear angels sing, when I opened the tasteful, little basket by the toilet.

This would keep me going for this month at least.

I took care of my situation and sniffed the fragrance sticks by the sink before turning on the sink to wash my hands… and hesitated at the sad, little tinkle that came out of the tap.

Right. No running water.

Which explained why the toilet tank wasn’t refilling either. Shit. I had just used up the last flush.

+++

I went downstairs, searching for some way to wash my hands. The house was so cold, my breath formed little clouds in the air with each exhale.

Had there been a wood burning stove in the kitchen?

There wasn’t, but there was a fireplace in the living room. And it looked like Negan and Simon had used it last night. Two half burned books were lying in the ashes.

How drunk had they been?

One didn’t burn books!

Looking around though, I realized why they had though. There was no wood left in the basket by the fireplace. And, snowing as it was, I really didn’t want to go outside to look for more. I had never been a big fan of snow. Now, standing in this icy cold house, freezing my ass off, I fucking despised it.

The stale smell of cigarettes hung in the air here as well. Two empty bottles were on the table, the glasses still there too, sticky with spilled booze as I tried to clean them up.

Fuck this shit. This was the apocalypse! I let the sticky glasses be, chose the books that looked the least interesting and made them up in the fireplace.

The fire quickly caught and started to warm the room.

Next on the list: water.

The tap in the kitchen didn’t work either, of fucking course.

Snow would have to do for washing and for making coffee and for drinking and for the million other things one never thought about while there actually was running water. Yay for the apocalypse!

I opened the back door, groaning at the gust of cold air that hit me, and took a step outside, cursing myself for not having put on shoes.

+++

By the time Negan came downstairs, I was sitting by the fire, a cup of coffee in hand, reading.

“You look comfy,” he observed.

“You look hungover,” I grinned.

Negan sat down next to me and took my cup out of my hands, greedily downing it and letting out an appreciative sigh. “Is there more?” he muttered, tiredly rubbing his face.

I proudly took the espresso maker from the fireplace and refilled the cup.

“You’re an artist with a coffee can,” he muttered, taking another sip. “What are you reading?” Putting his arm around me, he looked at the book over my shoulder.

“Pride and Prejudice,” I sighed. “So romantic…”

Negan snorted. “Am I not romantic enough?”

“Umm…”

“I got you chocolates yesterday,” he reminded me.

“But do you have the patronage of the esteemed Lady Catherine?”

“I’m gonna have to go with no,” he said, looking confused.

“See! But you’re doing your best,” I admitted and kissed him on the cheek.

“That’s what I was thinking!”

I dog eared the page I’d been on and closed the book. “How’s Simon?”

“Still sleeping…”

“Did… he manage to drink the Sad away?” I muttered.

Negan shrugged. “Who knows with the guy…”

“I mean, it was only a matter of time with Granny Smith,” I said, “but damn…”

“I told him he could stay with us for the time being,” Negan said. “Safety in numbers!” he added, before I could protest. “I’m going to find more people to fuck those fratboy assholes up!”

I swallowed. “Seems like the decision is already made…”

He nodded. “It is.”

I hated the idea of finding a bigger group, but… man wasn’t a solitary creature. There really was safety in numbers, as recent events had shown quite plainly.

“Can we maybe agree to include me in such decisions in the future?” I asked.

Negan looked at me as if I had grown a second head. “What would you do then?” Go back and pretend like nothing happened? And hope those fuckers don’t decide to come back next week? Because I won’t fucking stand for that!”

“No, but…” My voice was shaky and I had to clear my throat before I could continue, “I don’t like to be excluded! I was here before Simon. You and me against everyone else, remember?”

He took a swig from his coffee and his voice was much calmer when he next spoke. “Let’s not fight about this today. My head is fucking killing me.”

“I’m not fighting…” I got up and took the empty espresso maker with me, “I’m just asking not to be excluded from important decisions.”

Negan sighed. “I’ll try to keep that in mind,” he said. I couldn’t help but feel like he wasn’t entirely serious.

+++

In the afternoon we found a car that would be able to get us back up to the cabin despite the snow. We couldn’t live with Simon in the cabin, so, for reasons of security, we had decided to move down into town. It broke my heart to leave our haven.

Again, we had to park the car a little way away and take the last part of the track on foot, trudging through snow that went halfway up my calf.

Having made the trip a couple of times now, I knew the exact spot I was usually able to see the gable. Only today, I didn’t see it.

At first I thought it might be because I was blinded by the snow or something like that and that my eyes simply needed time to adjust to the semi darkness of the forest, but… I should be able to see much more of the cabin by now, not just the gable.

Fog was obstructing my vision.

No, not fog, I realized. Smoke. Negan seemed to have come to the same conclusion. He took my hand and pulled me after him, through the fresh snow.

A smoking heap of ashes, surrounded by a circle of molten snow was all that was left of our beautiful cabin.

I dropped his hand.

Our home and everything we owned was gone.

If we had been home last night, we’d most likely have burned with everything else.

Silent tears started streaming down my face without any chance to stop them. I thought I should feel sad, but all I felt was empty, numb, exhausted.

Negan moved towards the ruin and strutted through the charred remains, kicking at smoldering pieces of wood, cursing. He opened and closed the stove door, which was, ironically enough, the only thing that still seemed to be in working order.

“Why… would they do such a thing?” I soundlessly whispered.

“That’s why we need more fucking people! They wouldn’t fucking dare do a thing like that if there were 20 of us,” Negan cursed, angrily kicking up some ash, “or 200!”

My lips quivered.

Was this what the world was turning to? People killing each other over a spring in the forest? People having to defend themselves and their homes at all hours of the day? People needing to form groups to fight other groups?

Hugging myself, I turned around and walked back to the car. I didn’t want to be in the forest any longer.

Negan joined me in a minute later. Slamming the driver’s door behind him, he put his hands on the wheel but made no move to start the engine.

“So where do you want to find all those people to join up with us?” I asked after watching him from the side for just a moment.

He shrugged. “We can’t be the only survivors… we’ll find them!”

+++

Having nothing but the clothes on my back should have felt bad; but it didn’t. It felt oddly liberating. There was nothing anyone could take away from me anymore. Even my pride and dignity had been dented, if not broken. I was free, odd as it may sound. I was just me. I could go wherever I wanted, do whatever I wanted, fuck whoever I wanted…

“You’re quiet,” Negan muttered without looking at me.

I shrugged. “Just… processing.”

He put his hand on my knee, caressing me with his thumb, eyes firmly remaining on the road.

“We should have sex,” I said.

That made him look over. “Right now?”

“No, but… soon.”

“We still haven’t gotten any condoms.”

“First couple days after I’ve had my period, I won’t be able to get pregnant… or… well, chances will be very slim,” I shrugged.

Gaze firmly fixed on the road again, his hand slowly started moving upwards from my knee. “If you’re willing to take the risk,” he muttered, caressing the inside of my thigh.

“What do we have to lose?” I snorted. “Even if I should get pregnant… who knows if I even survive long enough to…” I broke off. “It hardly matters.”

“This is because of the cabin,” Negan slowly said, stopping his caresses.

“I mean…” I shrugged again.

He slowed down and steered to the side of the road, even though we were probably the only moving car in the whole county.

“Don’t you get suicidal on me now,” he said, looking at me earnestly, taking my hand.

“I’m not suicidal.” I pulled my hand out of his, shaking my head.

“You think nothing matters…”

“Yea, because everything could be gone tomorrow.”

“But it won’t. We’ll find people. We’re going to survive this!”

“What for? I mean… What is there for us to look forward to?”

He smirked, his face lighting up with what he was about to say. “Many years of fucking each other.”

I tried, but failed to hide my smile. “Touché!”

Smiling back at me, he took my hand again and kissed my knuckles before he put the car back in gear and drove us back to our new house; that we would share with Simon, that had a kitchen we wouldn’t be able to use, because there was no wood burning stove, that had two bathrooms we wouldn’t be able to use either, and that would be cold as shit at all times because there was no way we could keep the whole house warm with the one stupid fireplace in the living room.

But we were alive. And together. And that was the only thing that really mattered.


	4. Be careful what you wish for!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New People arrive at Negan, Alana and Simon's house, just like they wanted...

We cleaned out the zombies Negan had killed in the master bedroom and nailed most of the windows downstairs shut. We managed to move the wood burning stove from Simon’s house into our new place and placed it in the kitchen, with the stovepipe going out through one of the windows in a way that made me halfway believe we would survive lighting a fire in it.

What was a little smoke intoxication in exchange for warm meals? Meals that consisted mostly of the stuff we stole from the houses all around town.

It was bearable.

What wasn’t was the lack of running water or even a proper source of water, except for molten snow.

I felt disgusting.

Would I ever get used to that?

+++

It was a few days after we had properly moved into our new house. I had finished my period and felt halfway human again.

Simon had left yesterday, to widen our scavenging circle, and was still out.

I had been walking through town in the morning, seeing if I found anything worthwhile and deposited my haul in the kitchen when Negan pulled me into the downstairs bathroom, holding my eyes closed. The bathroom upstairs was much fancier, with a big tub we couldn’t use, but the downstairs one was much more practical, since we had to carry in snow by the bucket and melt and heat it, before we could wash up.

“What smells good?” I asked, greedily sniffing the air.

He pulled away his hands and my gaze fell on an old fashioned wooden tub, filled with hot, steaming water, topped off with a layer of bubbles.

Candles of all shapes and colors were sitting on every available surface, bathing the room in their warm, flickering light.

I half turned towards Negan, smiling broadly. “Where did you find this?” I got up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek.

“Farmhouse at the edge of town,” he said, grinning back just as broadly. “I cleaned it before taking it inside,” he hastily added, pushing the door closed and locking it.

He slowly unzipped my jacket and pushed it off my shoulders, gently kissing my neck. I moved my arms around him and cupped his butt, putting my head to the side and closing my eyes as he undressed me one piece after another while caressing me with gentle yet greedy hands.

“Won’t you be joining me?” I muttered, noticing he was only undressing me, but not himself.

“I don’t think we’ll both fit,” he grinned, looking at the small tub.

“Bummer.”

“Nah… You’ll get a thorough cleansing before I soil you again,” he said, smirking broadly. “What’s not to like about that?”

Mirroring his expression, I slipped my pants down over my hips and stepped out of them, gaze fixed on his face.

He kissed me again, unhooking my bra with quick fingers. I had felt odd at first, wearing a stranger’s underwear, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. At least I had been lucky enough to find someone in town who had had the same size as me and had a good taste in underwear on top of that!

Negan pushed my panties down over my hips and casually let his fingers move over my pubic mound and upwards before he turned me around and ushered me towards the tub. “Get in as long as it’s hot,” he whispered, moving my hair over one shoulder and kissing my neck.

I carefully stepped into the water, sighing as I sat down. My legs dangled over the edge. My arms too, but the rest of me was in heaven. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been so warm. In fact, had there ever even been a time I hadn’t been cold? It seemed impossible now, but it must be…

Leaning back and closing my eyes, I let Negan take over control.

He moved somewhere behind me and I his warm hands found my shoulders, gently massaging my sore muscles.

I stretched my head backwards and looked up at him. “How do I even deserve you?” I whispered.

He bent his head and kissed me, upside down.

I reached up over his head and let my fingers wander through his hair, holding on to him.

His hands, of course, didn’t stay on my shoulders for long. He let them travel down over my sides, innocently, and up again, over my breasts, not so innocently.

“I thought you wanted me to clean up, before soiling me again,” I whispered.

“Shit, you’re right… I forgot myself there for a minute,” he answered, pulling back.

“Yea, I thought so…”

“Can’t blame me, when you’re looking this sexy…” He reached for the loofah, wetting it and scrubbed my arms and legs and back. I shampooed my hair, but he took over and massaged my scalp.

I couldn’t have felt more pampered in a spa.

The bubbles had slowly vanished, giving Negan the full view of my body, but the water was still pleasantly warm. Negan put the loofah to the side and got to his feet, looking down on me. “Fuck, if you could see yourself through my eyes right now…” He cupped himself through his pants.

I licked my licks. His shirt was wet in places, sticking to his stomach and chest. The bulge in his pants looked delicious. If he could see himself through my eyes right now… Yum! “T…touch yourself,” I shyly said.

He raised an eyebrow at me, but unbuckled his belt without protestations.

I watched him intently, weakly reaching my hand towards him and licking my lips as he pulled down his pants just a little.

The bulge in his boxers was enormous, as I had known it would be, but I still whimpered when he pulled them down as well and stepped towards me, gripping himself.

I moved my hands over my breasts and downwards, making sure he was aware of it.

Negan, in reply pumped his dick a couple times, making a drop of precum form on his tip.

I couldn’t help but get to my knees and lick it off.

His eyes fluttered closed. “Shit, I’d wanted to do this in the bedroom, but…” He reached for my hands and pulled me up to standing, gently wrapping a towel around my shoulders, before he pushed me backwards against the wall, pressing himself against me, not so gently. Looking down at me, he pulled his shirt over his head and carelessly tossed it to the side.

I let my hands move over his chest, kissing his pecs and clavicles and further on upwards.

He put a finger under my chin so I would meet his mouth and kissed me deep and eager, his erect dick pushing against me.

I wrapped one leg around his hips and pushed myself against him. Negan gripped my second thigh and pulled it up as well, holding my full weight between him and the wall. This was a risk, but… a risk I was willing to take.

His tip pushed against my opening and I tilted my hips, rubbing up and down against him a couple times. We both moaned with the sensation.

But this wasn’t enough. I wanted all of him, not just the tip. Reaching down, I guided him, whimpering as he entered me. Fuck, he was big! He had been teasing me for half an hour and I was more than ready for him, loose and lubricated as well as I’d ever be. Still, it was a tight fit.

My moan was half pain, half pleasure as he stretched me open.

Negan closed his eyes, growling deeply as he started moving, slowly and carefully, always aware of his girth.

Fuck, this felt so… I was as close to him as possible and it was hardly enough. I wanted him deeper. I wanted… “more,” I whimpered, and he picked up speed, squishing me between him and the wall.

Suddenly there was movement outside the bathroom. Heavy footsteps coming inside the house, more than one set.

There was silence and then a knock against the door. “Anybody in there?” Simon called, twisting the knob.

Negan slowed down and stopped moving altogether, still inside of me. “What the fuck do you want?” he barked, half turned towards the door.

“I found people,” Simon continued.

What did he think he was doing? Negan was in the bathroom, obviously not alone. Why…

“Leave us the fuck alone!” Negan called, turning towards me again. He placed one of his hands against the wall, and pulled my leg up against him again. He pounding into me, hard enough to make me moan. “I’ll be out in five,” pound, “fucking,” pound, “minutes!”

I shook my head at him.

“You know what, make that fucking 20,” he corrected himself, finding his rhythm.

Simon didn’t answer. He seemed to finally have realized what we were doing.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Negan whispered, kissing me hard. “But… I need to fucking see you… I want to see your tits bounce under me… I want to see your tight little pussy stretch around me…”

“So…” I breathed hard, “so what do you want to do?” Getting into our bedroom wasn’t an option any longer with Simon back home.

“Get down on the floor.” He let go of me and I had to catch myself against the wall because my legs were too shaky. Shivering with anticipation, I dropped the towel to the ground and sat down on it awkwardly.

Negan pushed me backwards so I was laying under him. He bent over me and kissed my neck and chest and moved on downwards, spreading my legs as he went.

My body shook with desire, goosebumps trailing along with each of his movements. He let his hand move over my thighs, down and back upwards again, trailing the contours of my body.

Each of his touches was like touching a live wire and electricity flooding my brain. The wait was too much! I couldn’t take a second more of this! “Fuck me,” I whispered.

He grinned, licking his bottom lip. “Your wish is my command.” Placing his knees between mine, he aligned himself with me and pushed into my pussy without further warning. Hard and fast.

A surprised moan escaped my lips. My hips moved upwards of their own accord, jerking against him, welcoming him.

“Tell me how much you want me!” One of Negan’s hands found my breast and he let his fingers flick over my nipple before bending down to embrace it with his lips.

“I… I want you so damn much,” I panted. “I want you inside of me all day…”

He pushed himself up to kneeling and made me lift my hips to keep on accommodating him. This way, he could keep fucking me and see all of me at the same time. Holding on to my hips he could just barely reach my clit with his big hands and let his thumb circle over me.

I squirmed with the added pleasure. “Oh god, don’t stop,” I pressed out. “Please don’t fucking stop now…” My voice didn’t quite sound like my own any longer.

I didn’t care.

All I cared about was him, inside of me, fucking me and bringing me closer to my climax with every move. Nothing else mattered.

I blindly reached for his arms, strong and sinewy, holding on to him and he collapsed on top of me again, kissing me.

“You’re so… This is so… hmm… fuck so good!” I stuttered.

He shut me up with another kiss. What I had to say hardly made sense anyways.

My legs wrapped around him, pulling him ever closer. The shift in position changed something about the angle he fucked me and he hit a different spot inside of me; a particularly delicious spot. I cried out with each of his thrusts.

“I’m gonna come…” he whispered. “Soon.”

“Me too…”

“You want me to pull out?”

“What?” The thought of him pulling out now, of leaving me… “No! Never!” I whispered, fighting back tears.

He groaned. “Fuck you’re so…” He pushed himself up again, gripping my hips, hard, “fucking gorgeous…”

My muscles contracted around him. I wanted him to come inside of me, at the same time as me. I wanted to…

My toes cramped.

Just a little more now.

My legs jerked and I could barely hold the position we were in. Fuck. “Harder,” I cried. “Please… harder!”

Negan fucked into me even harder, even deeper and I felt his movements become just as jerky as mine. A low grumble found its way from his throat and he sped up another notch.

I could do nothing but whimper under him. My eyes fluttered closed and my whole body felt like it was on fire as my orgasm washed over me, pulling me under.

With one final groan, coming from deep inside his chest Negan changed his movements one last time, slowing down, but penetrating that much deeper as he came, fingers gripping my hips tight.

“Fucking shit,” he panted, slowly letting go of me and propping himself up with one arm before he collapsed on top of me.

I weakly wrapped my arms around him as we caught our breaths. His heart beat so hard, I could feel it through his chest.

Still, Negan was the first to move again. My whole body kept on jerking with aftershocks. I didn’t think my legs would ever be able to carry me again. It was impossible, after… this…

“You good?” Negan weakly asked.

“Never been better,” I breathed.

Negan lifted my hand to his mouth and kissed my palm before he moved to get up. I looked after him, trying to wrap the towel around me, but it was wet and cold.

I sat up and looked around confused. The floor was wet.

“Shit…” Negan muttered, lifting his pants up in the air. They were dripping wet as well. The wooden tub was half empty.

+++

There had been a couple living in the house before we had taken over. They had been so kind as to leave us their bathrobes. Negan grabbed the longer, dark grey one and put it on, knotting the belt around his waist. It fell open to reveal his chest. I wanted to find it ridiculous, but I had to admit he looked hot as fuck.

But then, there was hardly anything Negan could do where he didn’t look hot.

The second robe was much shorter and, of course, hot pink! I put it on and made sure it covered my ass and didn’t gape open at the chest.

We walked - well, Negan walked, I kind of waddled since my nether regions were still tender - into the living room, holding hands.

“We’ll be with you in a… fucking shit,” Negan said, standing motionlessly.

He had perfectly articulated my thoughts. There, sitting on the sofa, were two men and a woman. The couple I didn’t know, as expected, but the other… “Micah,” I said.

Micah looked me up and down silently. They had all heard me with Negan in the bathroom, which would have been awkward enough with a bunch of strangers, but Micah…

“You’re alive.” His voice had that familiar empty quality to it he always used when trying to hide what he was feeling.

“You too,” I answered.

Negan squeezed my hand. “We better get dressed,” he said through gritted teeth.

I nodded and followed him upstairs.

+++

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” Negan uttered, punching the wall in our bedroom. “I’ll cut off his balls and stuff them down his fucking throat!”

The pleasant afterglow was gone.

I mechanically put on the first clothes I found and started brushing my hair while Negan continued ranting and raving. Never in a million years had I expected Micah to survive even a day of all this.

“I’ll use him for fucking target practice and make him sleep with Lucille as a damn pillow! The fucking audacity of this asshole, to show the fuck up here! In my house!” He marched up and down the room, panting, muttering.

I said nothing, just silently sat on the bed and watched.

Micah was here. In our living room.

“I’ll knock out his damn teeth, grind them to a fucking powder and make him eat it for breakfast cereal.”

The image of a toothless Micah slurping cereal made me chuckle. Negan was getting ridiculous.

Negan looked at me. “Fucking damn the asswipe!” He shook his head. “Do we need him? Does he have any special skills? Or can we just shoot him?” he asked.

I sighed. “He’s an EMT.” We needed him.

Negan’s chest heaved and fell as he stared at me. “Fucking asshole!” He turned and punched the wall again, hard enough to leave a bloody imprint of his knuckles on the plaster.

I watched him silently. It wasn’t exactly that I was scared of Micah, but the thought of him sitting downstairs was… deeply annoying, to say the least.

“We need every damn man we can get,” Negan said.

“I know,” I whispered.

“Especially someone with fucking med-skills.”

“I know,” I repeated.

“But hell it would feel so good to fucking…” He wrung his hands before him.

I sighed. “We need him. Just…” I shook my head, “just let him stay.”

“You sure?” Negan slowly asked.

I shrugged. “No, but…”

“If he lays as much as a finger on you, I swear to god...” He crouched down so he was eyelevel with me and placed his hands on my upper arms, looking at me intently. “I’ll kill him!”

I swallowed. “I won’t let him lay a hand on me!”

Negan nodded. “Good! And once we showed those asshole fratkids, we’ll get rid of him.”

I nodded. That seemed like the most sensible solution.

Simon, Micah and the third guy were sitting on the sofa, drinking. The woman crouched by the fireplace, warming herself. Negan took the armchair and I sat down on the armrest next to him.

“Get us some of that too,” Negan said to no one in particular.

Simon got up and brought two more glasses from the kitchen before making the introductions.

Negan looked the newcomers over. Micah had long dark hair, put up in a ponytail and some beard. Eyes so dark they were almost black, rimmed with thick, long lashes. He was broader and shorter than Negan. Good looking in his own way, but compared to Negan, he looked like a parody of handsomeness.

The other guy, Dwight, was shorter and slimmer than either of the others. His blond hair limply hung down to his shoulders. There wasn’t much about him. His wife, Sherry, kinda looked like him in that she was just as slim and her shoulder length hair looked just as sad. Her big eyes, tired, but still bright, were they only thing that brought her a little further up on the beauty scale. Except for that, both of them were unnoticeable in every which way; which was possibly the reason they had survived.

All three of them looked like they were ready to just fall into bed and sleep for a week. And I couldn’t really blame them. Being out there…

“Simon tell you why you’re here?” Negan asked, taking his glass and swishing the booze around in it.

“Safety in Numbers,” Dwight said.

Negan nodded. “I want this to become a community, a society, but we need people to do that. We’ll have cooks and hairdressers and whatever the fuck else job you can think of and soldiers to protect them all.”

“If you decide to stay with us, you two can take one of the upstairs bedrooms, Simon and Micah will take the other. Negan and I will move into the office downstairs,” I took over, ever more on the practical side than Negan was.

He smirked at me, but I acted as if I didn’t see and continued.

“We have enough food for now, but we’ll have to keep scavenging and move out farther. If we happen to find someone who seems trustworthy and not like a complete fuckwad,” I pointedly looked at Simon at that, “we’ll take them back here if they want to be part of our group. If we want this to work, everyone will have to pull their weight!”

Negan took a sip of his drink and placed the glass on the table. “Alana’s my left hand, Simon’s my right and I’m the fucking leader of this operation.”

Micah stared at me as if I had grown a second head.

I gritted my teeth so I remained serious. I was Negan’s left hand. I had to radiate an air of confidence!

“For our own protection, we ask newcomers to give up their weapons until we decide we can trust them,” Negan continued.

Micah looked like he was about to protest, but Negan cut him off. “You’ll get them back when you go outside, of course, but inside the house,” he shook his head, “no chance.”

“And why should we join you?” Micah, smartass that he was, asked. “What if I don’t want you to be my leader?”

Negan shrugged. “If you don’t want to stay, you can just go back out there and try to survive. I don’t give a shit!”

Sherry had joined Dwight at the edge of the sofa. She took his hand and looked at him pleadingly. She clearly wanted to stay where it was warm and relatively safe.

“What if we just take over the house next door ourselves?” Micah continued prodding.

Negan slowly put his hand on the pistol in his belt. “Don’t get me wrong Micah, but I don’t like you very much to begin with. Keep this up and we’ll just see what happens.”

“You’re fucking my ex! I should be the one threatening you!”

Looking Micah up and down, whatever he saw, made him laugh out loud. “Give it a try,” he scoffed.

Dwight and Sherry looked at Micah pleadingly. They had obviously made up their minds about wanting to stay, not needing words to communicate.

Micah rolled his eyes in that way he had always looked had when he’d thought I had done or said something stupid.

I balled my fists.

“Go get their weapons,” Negan said to me, slapping my ass as I got up.

They had surprisingly few items to defend themselves. Micah had a fucking kitchen knife… that I had bought… for our kitchen. He held it towards me, blade first.

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Is that how it’s gonna be?”

He shrugged.

I shook my head at him. “Fuck, you’re such an asshole.”

“And how stupid you were not to notice it for so long…”

I nodded. “Yea, stupid and in love… too bad I was the only one.” I jerked his knife out of his hand by the blade. “But… live and learn,’ I shrugged, putting his “weapon” in my belt, hoping I wouldn’t cut it off. Acting powerful and careless was hard work.

Negan got up once I had collected all the weapons and ushered me towards the office I had declared our new bedroom.

“Why did you make us take this room?” he asked.

“Because it puts us as far from the others as possible,” I muttered, pulling the knife out of my belt and depositing it in the top drawer of the desk with the pistols Dwight and Sherry had had and locking the drawer. “I don’t want to have to be quiet, when I’m with you…”

Negan bit his lip and sat down on the desk chair, looking me over.

I sat down on his lap.

“You made a brave face out there. I’m proud of you.”

I laughed. “I only had the best to learn from.”


	5. Bed- and Powerplay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alana and Negan find a new bed and make sure its sturdy enough for them.   
> Micah learns a lession.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, umm... this chapter is mostly smut and some Negan Witticisms... you could probably say its just Negan being Negan tbh

The office downstairs was just that: an office. Which meant we had to find a bed and move it into our house. Which sounded easier than it was.

Beds or other things in our lives, Negan knew exactly what he wanted and refused to compromise.

The bed he finally deemed acceptable was a sturdy oak affair, weighing what felt like a million pounds.

We moved it through the town all by ourselves. I wanted to be mad at Negan for first being so choosy and then choosing the heaviest bed on the planet, but he shut me up by promising he’d fuck me so hard every night, every other bed would fall apart under it.

He seemed to want to make true on his promise the moment we were done and promptly attacked me from behind when I was putting on the sheets, pushing me down under him and kissing my neck.

“What are you doing?” I chuckled.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he muttered, biting my skin.

“I want you to tell me, that’s why I’m asking,” I laughed.

“Does that mean you like it when I talk dirty to you?” he huffed, “I knew it!”

I squirmed under him. “Maybe…”

“Well, if you need me to spell it out for you.” He pressed a sloppy kiss to the back of my neck. “I’m about to assess whether or not we chose the right bed frame.” He moved towards my shoulder, pulling my shirt to the side to reveal more of my skin. “Because seeing you from that angle makes me all kinds of crazy for you.” His voice was so low, it was a mere whisper against my ear and it sent shivers through my body. “And I’m thinking of your tight, perfect pussy and my hard ass dick…” He rubbed his groin against me to make sure I knew just how hard, “… and how I’d love to shove it into you again and have you come around me, whimpering and moaning…”

I gave him the whimper he so wanted. “What’s stopping you from doing just that?”

“That, my love, is an excellent question…” Negan moved his hands under my shirt, pushing it upwards and unhooking my bra. I moved up on my elbows and awkwardly let him work off my clothes.

He cupped my breasts for just a moment, growling into my ear from behind, his mouth on my back. Kissing my spine, he licked a thin line all the way down to the small of my back.

Almost without my noticing, he undid my pants and pulled them down over my ass, laying me bare before him.

“Are you ready?” he whispered against my butt.

“I don’t know… you’ll have to find out,” I whimpered.

“How’d you like me to find out?”

“Shove your fingers all up in my tight little pussy.” I was so hot for him, I barely managed to get out the words.

He made a sound low in his throat. “Your wish is my command,” he muttered, letting one hand move over my butt, spreading my cheeks from behind and carefully pushing his fingers into me.

“Fuck,” I moaned.

“You like that?”

“Y… yes…”

“What do you want me to do next?” His breath played over my back and sent shivers up and down my spine.

My teeth wanted to chatter. “Wha…whatever you wwant to do to me…”

“You’ll have to tell me. I’m all yours today.”

“F… finger me… see… how fast you can make me come…” Fuck, had I really just said that?

He laughed the deep throaty laugh I loved so much. “How fast would you like to come?” He moved his fingers in and out of me, slow, caressing.

“Fast… and I want you to fuck me after that…”

“While you’re still all worked up?”

“Mhm…” I was glad he couldn’t see my face in that moment, because I was blushing violently at so blatantly admitting to him what I wanted.

“Well, let’s see…” He shifted behind me, his fingers moving over my butt, caressing, gentle but greedy at the same time. His thumb flicked over my clit just once and I whimpered.

Fuck, I wanted more!

I wanted his dick!

Now!

“More,” I heard myself say.

“I haven’t even started, doll,” he chuckled.

And then he did start.

He played me like a fucking fiddle, making me utter noises I had never known I could produce.

Thoughts of “no, not possible” threatened to come up inside my head at the sheer amount of sensuous delights, but I pushed them to the side, forcing myself to give Negan control over me.

I trusted him. He would never do anything to hurt me.

He liked it when I came. Found it sexy.

I was allowed to…

He bit my ass and I shifted under him, mewling like a cat in heat. His second hand came to join his first one and the added pleasure made it impossible to continue worrying.

My brain just shut down and I lost all feeling of time and space or even my own name. I came so hard my arms gave out under me and I dropped onto the pillow face first.

I couldn’t move. I could barely breathe. My heart felt like it wanted to jump out of my chest. How the fuck had he just done this?

Chuckling softly, Negan lowered himself half on top of me, kissing my back. Pulling his fingers out of me sent another jolt of pleasure through me and I jerked under him, whimpering. His skin was cool against my hot, overheated back, his dick hard against my limp body.

“You ready for more?” he whispered.

“Two minutes,” I panted, struggling to free my legs from my pants.

Negan let his hand move over my naked back, over my ass and thighs and pulled off my pants.

I rolled over to face him.

He bit his bottom lip as he let his gaze wander over me, his Adam’s Apple bobbing in his throat. “I’m not sure how long I’m gonna last after that show,” he whispered, slowly pumping his dick with his hand. “Look what a mess you made. You’re so fucking wet.”

There was a wet spot on the sheets where my nether regions had rested a second ago.

“I’ll have to clean you up before we can do anything more.” His tongue darted out of his mouth, wetting his lips and even just watching him made me shiver all over.

I weakly opened my knees. “Thank you for being so thoughtful.”

He bent down over me, kissing the insides of my thighs, pushing my legs apart further.

My flesh was so sensitive, I could barely stand the feeling of his tongue against me. Soft, yet just hard enough to penetrate, wet and hot, just like me. It was too much and not enough, both at the same time. I squirmed under him, eyes fluttering closed, whimpering.

“So fucking gorgeous…” He put my legs on top of his shoulders, kissing my calves, my knees, caressing my thighs and crawled over me, pushing my legs up with him. The muscles in his arms worked in the most delicious way and I couldn’t help but reach for him, touching him.

His dick pointed down at me, hard and heavy. I wanted to grab for it as well, but my hand wasn’t long enough.

My position under him was awkward, my legs pushed up almost to my shoulders, but it didn’t matter the moment the tip of his dick moved over my opening, teasing my tender flesh.

Everything was wet and slippery and more than ready for him.

“Fuck me,” I whimpered.

“Say please,” Negan whispered.

“Fuck me please…” I would go crazy if I didn’t get his dick right this fucking minute! “Please!” I repeated again, rubbing myself against him.

“How could I ever say no, when you’re asking this nicely,” he whispered. He knew I was more than ready, but still he was careful as he pushed into me, always aware of his size, spreading me slowly, groaning deeply.

I wanted to watch him enter me but the sensation was too much and my eyes fluttered closed.

My hands grasped on to his upper arms, nails digging into his skin, holding on tightly. We were one with each other and yet I wanted more. I had never felt anything like that with Micah.

Fuck, I couldn’t think of Micah now! I was here with Negan. Negan. “Negan!” I whispered.

A deep growl was his reply as he pushed into me hard enough to make me scream.

“Too much?” he asked, slowing down.

I shook my head. “Just…” I swallowed, “just right.”

Smirking, he picked up his rhythm again, watching me. Our gazes locked and it was almost too much. This gorgeous man, inside of me, eager to please, loving everything I did… I felt myself convulse around him at the thought.

“Doll… you keep this up and I’m going to…”

I consciously squeezed my muscles around him, watching his face, a sly grin playing around my mouth.

He half laughed, half moaned. “Two can play at that game.” He pushed one of my legs off his shoulder and moved to half kneel over me, one hand reaching down to caress me.

I moaned deeply. “Okay, you win…” The pleasure was almost too much…

“You gonna come for me? Again?” he whispered.

Swallowing, I nodded.

“Such a good girl… Tell me when.”

“Soon…”

He nodded as well and put my second leg off his shoulders too, urging me to lift my hips.

Holding on to them, he could caress my clit at the same time as pound into me.

My toes dug into the mattress and my legs wanted to shake. “Soon,” I repeated. “So soon…”

He picked up speed, his movements becoming jerky. “So fucking soon,” he agreed.

I squeezed my muscles around him once more and it drove us both over the edge. His dick pumped his seed into me with such pressure, I could almost feel the spurts.

And then he collapsed on top of me, dick still inside my pussy as the sweat dried on our joint bodies.

Weakly, I put my arms around him, holding him. I never wanted to let him go.

+++

The smell of food lured us out of bed some time later. It reminded me there were other people in the house now, not just Simon who would manage to burn pasta. I wasn’t the only cook any longer.

The wet stain on our sheet served as a reminder of… things. How could sex be so, so incredible?

Negan’s seed seemed to still drip out of me when I left the bedroom and joined the others. I hated to admit it, but it was incredibly hot. Knowing there was still some of him inside of me… It was a shame we would only be able to have sex for a few days every month until we found condoms.

Good thing Negan had very dexterous other body parts.

Micah sat at the table, beer in hand, watching Dwight and Sherry work away over pots and pans. He watched me just the same as I started to put plates on the table. It felt odd, sitting in a room with the windows nailed shut against flesh eating zombies and setting the table for a family dinner.

Negan helped me lay out the cutlery. “Remember how we were talking about everyone pulling their weight?” he said to Micah.

Micah snorted at him and took a swig from his beer. “I don’t do women’s work.”

Negan smacked the can out of Micah’s hand and built himself up before the other man. “Get the fuck out and chop me some wood then.”

“Now?” Micah protested.

“Sure! It’s men’s work, no?”

“I’ll do it tomorrow,” Micah tried waving him off.

Negan shook his head. “You need me to spell it out for you? N-O-double-fucking-U!”

“You can’t tell me anything while you’re still reeking of her,” Micah said.

I stopped moving and looked up at him.

“And why would that be?” Negan asked.

“Because I’ll always know I’ve had her first…” Micah grinned as if he had said something very smart.

“Good thing you didn’t make much of an impact,” I chipped in, raising an eyebrow at him. “Before Negan came along, I wasn’t aware Sex could be pleasant.”

Sherry and Dwight both snorted, but tried to hide it behind coughs.

If looks could kill, I would probably have died right that second. Micah looked about ready to explode. He got up and angrily picked up his half spilled beer from the floor, downing the rest that was still in the can before tossing it at me.

Silence fell. Even the boiling water on the stove seemed to quiet down.

Negan slowly took the can, turned it over in his hands a couple times while he moved towards Micah, and crushed it against Micah’s forehead, flattening it. “Try something like that again and next time this will be something far less pleasant than an empty fucking beercan. Now get the fuck out before you spoil this damn dinner for everyone.”

Micah looked at Negan defiantly, but couldn’t hold his gaze for more than a second. He wordlessly turned around and stepped outside.

Negan pulled out a chair at the head of the table and sat down heavily. “How’d you put up with that asshole as long as you did?”

“I’d like to say he was great in bed, but he really wasn’t…” I muttered, slowly setting the last plate.

Sherry, who had been quietly stirring whatever they were making, laughed.

“How long have you been travelling together?” I asked, stepping behind Negan and holding on to the back of his chair. I kissed his cheek and pulled myself up again. “Should we have wine? This is our first meal as a group! I think we should have wine.”

“We saved his ass on day one… he’s been clinging to us ever since,” Dwight said. “Kept on claiming he was a doctor… is that even true?”

“Umm… he used to be an EMT before, so… kind of?” I shrugged.

“I knew he was lying,” Dwight said.

“We couldn’t just let him die, could we?” Sherry added.

“Well I mean…” I shrugged.

Negan cleared his throat. “We look out for each other… even for the assholes,” he reprimanded me, slapping my ass as I passed him to get the wine.

“Yes, my liege,” I whispered, fake bowing before him.

Simon came in through the back door. “Why’s Micah chopping wood at this time of day? It’s pitch black.”

“Because I fucking told him to,” Negan said.

Simon nodded. Yea, that explained things.


	6. The Night we Both got Shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honeymoon's over.

It was a couple weeks later.

Word about our small settlement seemed to get out. Newcomers appeared every couple of days, alone or in groups. We had taken over the neighboring house and would soon have to take up a third house so we could find places to sleep for everyone.

Negan seemed to enjoy himself in the role of the strong leader. He was still soft and gentle as he had always been when he was alone with me, but with every newcomer, he seemed to grow harder on the outside. And he demanded Simon and I were a lot harder as well.

Simon didn’t have a problem with that demand.

I sure did.

“I owned a coffee shop for fucks sake! I’m used to being nice to people! To make them feel welcome!”

“Then get used to acting differently. We need to present a unified front to those fuckers!”

“A unified front of assholes?”

Negan took a deep breath. The muscles in his jaw worked as he stared at me. Nostrils flaring, he took a step towards me.

I swallowed. He wouldn’t hurt me… he never would!

“Sometimes you make me so mad,” he whispered, gripping my jaw with rough fingers. “I could just…”

I didn’t dare move. He’d never hurt me! Never! Never! Never! I kept repeating the thought over in my head, like a mantra.

Negan closed the last distance between us and kissed me, roughly, pressing me against the door of our room.

“So fucking mad,” he breathed, biting my neck, his groin rubbing against mine.

I whimpered.

He let go of my jaw and grabbed my hands instead, pulling them up over my head.

“So mad…” he continued, moving down towards my breasts.

A commotion out on the corridor made him look up. “What the fuck are they doing out there?” he muttered against my breasts.

“I don’t know,” I whimpered. I was half aroused, half scared.

Negan huffed and let go of me, pushing me to the side so he could open the door.

“The fuck is going on out here?” he roared.

I let myself sink down to the ground where I was. Fear might be a turn-on for some… for me, it definitely wasn’t. And Negan should know that by now.

+++

I was still sitting on the ground when he came back inside a few minutes later. “What are you doing down there?”

“Just… nothing…” I muttered.

“Get up, I need to get outta here,” he muttered, extending a hand.

“What? Where to?” I got to my feet without his help and looked at him.

“I don’t care… just away from all of those fuckheads!” He raised his voice at the last few words so the others would hear him. “Assholes make me feel like I’m their fucking grandmother, expecting me to settle their idiot fights…”

+++

We took our weapons and one of the cars and drove out of the driveway without looking at anyone.

It had started snowing a couple days ago and hadn’t really stopped since then, but the small jeep managed the snow drifts well enough.

We had been out like ten minutes and made slow going when Negan took my hand. “I’m sorry for screaming at you. You’re the only sane one in this fucking house,” he whispered, kissing the back of my hand.

“It’s okay,” I answered, pulling my hand out of his.

“Is it?”

“I mean… I’m used to it…”

“Shit, Alana, don’t be like that…”

I looked over at him. “Like what? Supportive as I can be, trying to do the right thing to make people come to us and then bear your wrath when you don’t like something I’m doing?” I swallowed. I didn’t want to fight with him, but I also didn’t want to let him walk all over me. I wouldn’t!

Negan said nothing. He focused on the road in front of us, carefully maneuvering the fresh snow.

“I never wanted to be a leader,” I whispered, “or a leader’s left hand, whatever that entails.”

“You think I wanted this shit?”

“Well you took the post willingly enough…”

“I’d rather lead than be led.”

I sighed. “Yes, alright,” I admitted.

“But I mean it,” he continued. “I know I shouldn’t take things out on you. I vow to do better in the future.”

“Okay,” I agreed. “And I’ll try to be more of an asshole.”

He snorted. “Good.”

The snowfall was getting heavier again, wind whipping icy snowflakes against the windshield. If we continued like this, we’d be snowed in in an hour. “Where are we going anyways?” I asked.

“Couple towns over. Simon said there’s a huge ass supermarket. I’ve wanted to check it out for days.”

I nodded. We were 15 people now. 15 people ate a lot. We barely managed to keep our stores full as it was.

We needed food. And toilet paper. And… other things… like condoms.

+++

The clock on the dashboard showed it was just after three in the afternoon when we stopped before the store. Early still, but thick clouds blocked out the sun and snowflakes kept on falling as if they were getting paid to.

Negan left the headlights on so they illuminated the sales floor.

We stepped in through the broken glass front and immediately realized we weren’t alone. Something was rustling in the very back. Something shuffled.

I reached for my shotgun.

Negan signed he’d check it out and for me to take the other side.

I moved as silently as possible. The front had been light, but the further back we moved, the less light penetrated between the shelves.

Someone had clearly been here to raid, but there was still a lot of food and toiletries on the shelves all around me. It was encouraging somehow, to know we weren’t yet running out of everything. We’d just have to move out a little further.

The much too familiar sound of Negan smashing a zombie with Lucille made me ease up further. He had found the source of the noise and taken care of it.

I listened into the silence for a moment. “You got them all?” I whispered.

“Yea.”

Suddenly the light from the car went out.

What the fuck?

Footsteps moved in the front of the store. Human, not zombie. More than one set.

I crouched down instinctively and moved towards where I had last heard Negan.

“No need hiding,” a male voice said, “we saw you come inside.”

I froze.

“This is our town, our store, our food you’re stealing!”

“Says who?” Negan called.

“Says us!” another voice answered. He was to my left. Negan was somewhere before me.

“Well too bad you didn’t write your name on the front or something. Honest mistake,” Negan called.

I moved towards him faster, stopping at the middle aisle. They would see me if I crossed it.

Negan’s head appeared at the other side, one shelf farther back than I was. He pointed towards the back of the store.

I nodded. There was probably a back exit. Would we be able to reach it?

A gun was cocked.

Great. That just answered my next question. They’d shoot us if they saw us. We had to be faster than them.

They didn’t yet know where I was. I could…

I took the first thing I could reach from the ground and tossed it towards Negan’s side of the store, but further to the front.

And then I ran.

Negan followed me.

The first shot was deafening. I felt the bullet shoot past me, making my hair blow in the wind. All the shots that followed just blurred into one. I couldn’t tell if they had shot at us three times or thirty times. All I could tell was they were shooting fast, which meant they had something bigger and meaner than pistols.

The aisle towards the back felt incredibly long. I was breathing hard by the time we reached a door marked private, but reach it we did.

It was unlocked, blessing of all blessings!

We shot through and pushed something that felt like a desk to block the door.

All I heard was white noise. All I saw was blackness. The room had no windows and the light outside had been too weak to permeate through the cracks around the door.

“You hit?” Negan panted. His voice sounded muffled to my ears.

“No,” I shook my head into the darkness. “You?”

“Don’t think so.”

Something slammed against the door.

“You try to find the exit,” Negan muttered. “I’ll make sure this stays closed.”

I hesitated. Would they try to shoot us through the door?

A shot and Negan hissing answered my question. Fuck. “You okay?” I whispered. The tiniest amount of light fell through the bullethole.

“I’ll live,” he said, but his voice sounded strained.

Shit. I blindly scrambled through the room in search of another door. One that would lead us outside.

Outside.

To safety.

I didn’t want to think about what we would do if there was no door. There simply had to be one.

I cursed as I stubbed my toe against something in the darkness. My hands found a wall. Doors usually were in walls. Left? Right?

On a hunch, I moved left.

“Door, door, door,” I mumbled. I had to be quick. The others, whoever they were, could just go around the store and wait for us there until we made it out. Were there just the two of them? Or more?

“Door!” I exclaimed, twisting the knob.

Negan followed me into a large storage area. Pale light was shining in from somewhere and we could make out basic shapes. It was cold as fuck and scattered snowflakes slowly fell towards the ground in the still air.

“Where’d they hit you?” I whispered.

“Doesn’t matter,” Negan panted. “Keep going.”

There was a loading deck to the right. We scuttled towards it and jumped off it to the ground.

Negan groaned.

“Where’d they hit you?” I repeated.

“Shoulder,” he whispered. “Keep going!”

It was all silent outside. The snow seemed to muffle every sound. We would leave a trace, but the wind would hopefully blow it over quickly. Where were we to go though? Back to our car? Or wait things out? Negan was shot. We had to decide quickly and act even quicker.

The service alley from the supermarket ended on a broader street with more small businesses left and right. Should we hide in one of them? How bad was Negan’s injury?

Scanning left and right I aimed for one of the doors at random and pulled Negan with me. I didn’t see any more enemies.

Had they… just left?

No. They wouldn’t. We had to keep going.

The door to the store I’d chosen was locked. No one had broken in yet. Seemed like no one wanted to loot a yarnstore.

Hesitating just long enough to pull my jacket over my fist, I punched through the glass, reached inside, unlocked the door and pushed Negan into the relative safety a store with a glass front could provide.

No one had seen us as far as I could tell.

It was quiet inside.

We stood for a few seconds, panting, listening, looking at each other from wide eyes.

Negan gave a short nod and we moved further into the small store, ducking down behind the sales counter so we wouldn’t be visible from the outside.

“Let me see your wound,” I whispered.

“Why? You know anything about wounds?” Negan teased, but unzipped his jacket anyways.

“I know it’s bad if you lose too much blood. That enough?” I raised my eyebrows at him and pulled open his jacket. His white shirt was bloody all down to his chest. Shit.

I reached into his jacket to feel if the bullet had gone all through him or if it was still inside. His back was unharmed. So it was still in him.

I swallowed.

We had to get it out.

I had to get it out.

How was I going to do that?

“Stay here,” I whispered, moving towards the back where a door was marked private.

Maybe there was a first aid kit. Maybe… Shit.

Something out on the street had just moved.

Had they seen me? I froze where I was, staring at the dark shapes in the snow.

They must have seen our footsteps.

Fuck!

“Stay still,” I whispered to Negan, pushing my knife backwards on my belt so it was hidden.

The two shapes outside moved straight towards us. They had seen me.

“Where’s your friend?” the first one asked, pushing the door open, gun pointed at me. He was tall and skinny, his dark skin a harsh contrast to his bleached blond hair.

“I don’t know,” I said, lifting my hands up to my shoulders.

The second one was shorter but just as skinny. He had obviously been white at one point but seemed to like going to the tanning salon a little too much.

I moved backwards, slowly. If the door marked private was unlocked…

“Stop moving,” Mr. tan said while the other scanned the store.

“Please don’t kill me!” I whimpered. “I… He… he kidnapped me… I’ve been looking for a chance to escape for days!”

The taller one looked at me, then at his friend.

“Please,” I pushed all the fear I was feeling into my voice. If I managed to get one of them into the back room, Negan would surely take care of the other, hurt or not.

“I will do anything, if you help me! Anything!” I suggestively bit my lip as I looked at them intently.

“Give me a minute with her,” the tall one said. His teeth as he grinned at me were eerily white in the twilight.

Grabbing my hand, he pushed me into the back room. Now Negan only had to take care of the shorter one, while I would keep this one occupied.

My new friend slammed the door shut behind us and took a few quick steps towards me.

It was surprisingly easy to play the scared female, ready to do anything so he’d spare her life. I might almost go so far as to say it came natural to me.

There was only a small window at the back of the room, so it was almost completely dark. The tall shape moved towards me and reached out to unzip my jacket.

He reached inside of it and around my waist, jerking me against him.

I reached behind me and drew my knife… and slammed it straight into where I hoped his kidney was. Fucking asshole.

He gave a groan and took a step back.

I twisted my knife for maximum damage and pulled it out. My hands wanted to shake, but I willed them to stay still and hold on to my weapon.

He looked at me and drew his pistol, aiming at my face.

He seemed shaky though. The pistol danced around before him and he seemed unsure when to pull the trigger. “Fucking bitch!” he barked and shot. Once, twice, thrice.

The bullets hissed past my ears and hit the wall behind me.

“Fucking asshole!” I hissed and tried to attack him once more. He evaded and stumbled over something and went down.

I kicked his pistol out of his hand and picked it up, shooting him in the head. No hesitation, no mercy. I didn’t have time for mercy. I had to look for Negan and the other guy. There hadn’t been any gunshots, but that didn’t mean a thing.

The front of the store was chaos. One of the shelves had toppled over and Negan and the other guy were wrestling on the ground, half on top of the fallen shelf, surrounded by fluffy yarn. It might have been comical under other circumstances.

I aimed my pistol but quickly realized I couldn’t shoot. They were moving too much! But I couldn’t just watch either! Negan was injured! His right arm didn’t work properly. It was a wonder he had even made it this long.

They rolled over so the attacker was on top of Negan, punching him in the face.

I dropped my gun and jumped our common enemy from behind, holding on to him with all my strength, and trying to get him off of Negan. My full weight and strength didn’t seem to be enough though. Holding on to his chest with one arm and trying to hold his mouth and nose shut with the other only seemed to annoy him.

But he let go of Negan.

Focusing on me instead, he rolled to his back so I was under him, slamming his head back against my face.

Fuck, that had hurt! Tears shot into my eyes. Had he just broken my nose?

Dazed, I let go of him and he got back up… or, well, he tried to.

Negan was there, kicking him in the side before he could even make it halfway to his feet.

He crouched over with a groan and Negan took hold of his head and kneed him in the face, probably breaking his nose too. Served him right, the fucking asshole!

I grabbed the first thing I found through the haze of my tears and jumped the stranger from behind once more, stabbing him in the back with what turned out to be a handful of knitting needles.

My victim cried out in pain and fell to his knees.

Negan grabbed a pair of scissors from the ground and stabbed them into his side, incapacitating him all the way.

Panting, I bent down to get his gun and shot him in the head, just like his friend.

The silence that followed was deafening. Only the sound of our breaths and the wind blowing outside broke through it.

Negan’s and my gaze met over the dead body. “Did I tell you today how much I loved you?” he panted.

Laughing weakly, I moved towards him on all fours, crawling over the guy we’d just killed and dropped to the ground next to him, leaning against the sales counter, panting and bloody.

My sleeve came away bloody as well as I wiped my nose on it.

I put my head to Negan’s shoulder and he moved his arm around me.

“I love you too.”

We took a moment to catch our breaths. Then I remembered Negan still had a bullet stuck in his shoulder. And my nose was probably broken. What was I going to do about that?

I looked around.

Whatever I was going to do to patch him up, I would need light. And we couldn’t risk any kind of light out here in the store. It would be visible for a mile. “I think there was a first aid kit in the back,” I muttered, slowly getting to my feet, holding on to the counter for balance.

Fuck, everything hurt…

I managed to get Negan to his feet as well. “Fucking shit,” he muttered, putting a lot of his weight on me. He was limping badly. Carrying most of his weight when I was feeling like passing out myself was hard, but I managed somehow. I had to, or we’d both die.

Clearing the desk in the back room with a swipe of my arm felt like we were about to fuck. Too bad we didn’t have time for anything like that in this very moment.

I leaned Negan against the desk in the back room and went to search for the first aid kit in the dark. I’d need a candle or something… and I had to still the bleeding from my nose… and on Negan’s shoulder. What had happened to his leg? I had to check that as well.

Okay. One thing after another. I took a deep breath.

Light first.

Looking around, straining my eyes, I found another door, leading to a small bathroom.

There was a fragranced candle, next to a small basket with potpourri. It looked surreal in the destroyed store… in this destroyed world, really. The scent, Christmas cookies or something like that couldn’t have felt more wrong. I took a moment wondering whether Christmas had already passed, but came up with nothing. I had no idea what day it was.

It didn’t matter anyways. I stuffed some toilet paper into my nose, groaning with the pain and the smell was gone. I wouldn’t die from a nosebleed, but I didn’t think my blood getting into Negan’s wounds would be a good thing, so… safety first.

Taking the candle and a roll of toilet paper I hurried back to Negan. “Put this on your shoulder… you’re still bleeding,” I said, pushing the roll in his hand.

I lit the candle and unbuckled his pants with shaking fingers.

“Much as I’d love to, I don’t think I can get it up right now…” Negan chuckled weakly. “But I appreciate the thought.”

“Shut up,” I muttered, kissing him. He was still joking. Everything would be okay.

I willed my hands to steady as I pushed his pants down over his legs.

Shit.

He had been bleeding.

A lot.

There was a second bullet hole on the back of his thigh, just below his ass. I swallowed. How was I going to get out the bullets? And stop the bleeding? And get him out of here? And get him home?

“So, umm… you’ve been shot twice,” I whispered, my voice sounding breathless.

“Thank fuck! My pants were so wet, I was starting to wonder if I’d fucking pissed myself!” He was half laying on the desk now, face down, breathing quickly.

“I’ll just remove the bullet and stitch you up,” I heard myself say. Yea, great idea Alana… and how the hell would I go about just this?

I wiped the worst of the blood away with some more toilet paper and generously sprayed disinfectant on the angry red flesh.

Negan hissed. “Never thought I’d ever say that, but I can’t say I’m a big fan of what you’re doing there,” he muttered.

I looked at my job before me and felt my pulse speed up. How the hell was I going to deal with that? “Please keep talking! I... I’m fucking scared.”

Negan chuckled. “Yea? What do you think I am?”

“Sorry, I just mean…” I swallowed. Alright. Needle. Twine. Good thing we were in a yarnstore. There must be something like this in the front.

The sales counter was crammed. There were drawers on the inside and I looked through them all, searching, searching… There was a bottle of vodka in the bottom drawer. Interesting.

I found needle and twine as well and moved back to Negan.

“You still with me?” I asked.

“Yea…”

“Good, because… I found something you’re gonna like.” I held the vodka out to him so he could see it.

He eyed the bottle for just a second. “Nastrovje,” he muttered and took a deep swig, hissing as he moved his shoulder.

“Pour some over my hands,” I demanded.

“What? No!”

“As a disinfectant! Come on!”

“Fucking shit…” he said and weakly poured some of the vodka over my fingers while I did my best to evenly distribute it over the whole of my hands.

There were no tweezers in the first aid kit. Why would there be? I didn’t think removing bullets counted as first aid.

Fuck, I was so damn lost!

“So, umm… you want anything to bite down on?” I asked. “Because I think I’m about to reach into your flesh and pull that bullet out with my fingers.” Even saying it out loud was almost too much.

I shook out my hands to stop them from shaking.

Negan shook his head and took another long sip of vodka.

I made a fist and stretched my fingers a couple times, taking deep breaths. I could do this. I could so do this!

Pushing the edge of his boxers up and spreading Negan’s flesh with one hand, I pushed thumb and forefinger of my other hand into the bloody hole, focusing on finding anything hard.

Negan groaned under me.

I closed my eyes, focusing just on feel. Everything was wet and mushy and… There it was. Hard and feeling wrong. “I think I have it,” I whispered.

“Then get it the fuck out!” His voice sounded strained.

The bullet was as slippery as everything around it. I pulled it out and my fingers were shaking so badly, the bullet slipped and dropped to the ground with a clatter.

Didn’t matter.

I had to stitch him up. And then I’d just have to do it one more time. Nothing more. Easy cheesy.

I took the vodka and took a long swig myself, leaving a bloody handprint on the bottle.

“Leave some for me,” Negan said, weakly reaching for it again.

Sewing had never been a great hobby of mine. I could sew on a button or something, but sewing on living human skin… I shuddered at the thought.

I wasn’t sure if it hurt Negan or me more. We were both sweating when I finished putting the bandage on and made him get up so I could pull his pants back up. It was freakishly cold in the store and I couldn’t have him die from exposure after I’d just spent what felt like an hour patching him up.

“You alright?” I asked again.

Negan looked pale, even in the dim light of the candle. “Ask me something else,” he panted.

“We only have to do this once more,” I whispered. “Then we can go to sleep. Sleep, remember? You liked that one!”

“Stop trying to be funny… that’s my job.” He pulled his soiled shirt over his head so I could get on to the second wound.

“Well then, tell me a joke,” I whispered, inspecting the wound. The bleeding had slowed down, but it still looked angry.

“A horse and a priest walk into a bar,” Negan slowly said, hissing as I pulled open his damaged skin.

“What do they do?” I absentmindedly asked.

“I forgot,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “Fucking shit…”

His flesh moved around my fingers as he leaned back, breathing heavily.

I swallowed down bile. I could puke later. No time for that now. This bullet felt bigger than the other one. I grabbed it and held on to it.

“Here, you can take that as a trophy,” I whispered, putting the bloody bullet into his hand.

“I’d rather shove it up that fuckers’ ass,” he panted but closed his fingers around the bullet anyways.

I started with the stitching and instead of cursing, Negan passed out this time around. Was that a good thing? Passing out was only dangerous with head injuries, right? I finished the job in any case and put a big band aid on his shoulder.

My teeth were chattering, but I didn’t know whether it was from the cold or from exhaustion. It hardly mattered.

I took off my jacket and wrapped it around Negan and myself, best as I could, which wasn’t very good at all. I put his arms around me and mine around him, making us warm each other as well as possible.

I was so tired, I could barely keep my eyes open. It didn’t matter that we half lay on top of a desk.

I fell asleep as soon my head hit Negan’s chest.

+++

If I had thought I’d been cold in the evening, the morning proved me wrong. I was sure my toes must be gone. The parts where Negan touched me where the only ones I didn’t feel frozen solid.

He was resting against me, breathing deeply. I took that as a good sign. What should we do next? My growling stomach told me what it would like to do next. Yea… food would be nice. And some hot tea. Fuck, I was so cold.

Sitting up, I first thought Negan had bled onto me, but the patch on his shoulder looked alright. Why was my arm all bloody then?

Twisting my head to the side, I realized the skin on top of my shoulder was broken as well. The wound wasn’t as bad as Negan’s, not by far, but still… How had that happened? When had it happened?

The light that came in through the small window illuminated the full extent of the mess we had made yesterday. My hands were bloody almost all the way up to my elbows, my right side down from the top too. Dried flakes of blood fell from my face as I moved. I pulled out the pieces of toilet paper I’d stuffed into my nostrils last night and carefully patted at my nose. It felt like twice its normal size and hurt like crazy!

Negan looked pale. Should I wake him? Or let him sleep some more? I had to get him something dry to wear. My first victim’s body still rested in the corner where I had put him down. Right… I had almost forgotten about that. Could I take his shirt and put it on Negan? Or was that disgusting? It would be bloody as well, but it would be mostly dry. And beggars couldn’t be choosers. I had to keep him warm.

I wrestled the shirt and jacket off the dead body and gently shook Negan awake.

“Good morning,” I whispered.

Negan only groaned in reply.

“Put this on,” I said, handing him the shirt and jacket.

Negan groaned once more but put the clothes on.

It had snowed some more through the night. Would we be able to make it back home? I didn’t want to stay in this godforsaken town one more minute. Our two attackers probably hadn’t been the only ones living here. And by now, someone would surely have noticed their going missing.

“We need to get home,” I said.

Negan nodded. He carefully got up, grimacing as he put weight on his leg.

“You okay to walk?” I asked.

He slowly nodded and limped the few steps towards me, shaking his head. “You gotta… ah… fuck…”

I put his arm around my shoulders and took some of his weight so he could remain upright. “I’ll go get the car,” I said. “You just wait here and jump in when I’m outside.”

He sighed. He didn’t like having to rely on someone else, but he had no choice today. We moved into the front of the store, where it felt even colder, if that was possible in any way. Our breaths formed small clouds before our mouths with every exhale.

The road was completely snowed in.

I prayed our car would be able to make it through. All I wanted was to go home and sit before the fire, drinking hot cocoa with Negan by my side.

I shrugged out under his arm, ready to leave, when he grabbed my wrist. Frowning, I looked at him.

He pulled me into a hug, kissing me. “Be careful out there.” Fear colored his voice. I had never heard him sound so scared.

I nodded and tenderly brushed my fingers over his face. “I’ll be back in a minute or so.”

Once outside, I sniffed the air, feeling like a scared rabbit.

Never before in my life had I felt so exposed. Everything around me was white. The snow went almost up to my knee and I left a broad trail, wading through it.

A shot rang out, incredibly loud in the snowy silence.

The bullet bit into my left arm. I winced, instinctively reaching for the spot I had been hit and crouched down, looking around. Where were they?

Staying low to the ground, I continued moving forward, looking left and right and wishing I had eyes in the back of my head as well, but I didn’t find anyone.

I made it around the corner where I should be able to see our car. Only, I didn’t.

It was gone.

Our car was fucking gone.

I wanted to cry.

What was I supposed to do now? Head back to Negan? Try to find a new car? Sit down and let my tears roam free?

There were mounds in the snow, where I assumed cars were buried, but… More shots rang out behind me. Had they found Negan?

I turned and froze in place.

Someone came towards me, pointing a rifle directly at my chest. It was all over.


	7. No Mercy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alana and Negan have been captured.   
> They already know their captors.   
> Noone is happy about the reunion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter definitely isn't for the faint of heart. Both Negan and Alana will be misused badly. If you're sensitive... consider yourself warned.

We found ourselves again in an earth cellar. It was damp and cold and dark and my arm felt numb. They had taken our jackets and shoes and weapons and cuffed our wrists.

Negan had sacrificed part of his shirt to wrap a makeshift bandage on my arm so it would stop bleeding at least, but the bullet was still inside. It was impossible, of course, but I felt as if its cold, hard metal radiated cold into my whole arm.

“What do you think they’re going to do to us?” I whispered, moving closer against Negan.

“No fucking clue,” he muttered.

We were huddled into the very back, both facing the entrance to the cellar in anguish. There was movement outside.

The light, when the door was opened, was almost blindingly bright. Someone came down the stairs, the wood squeaking under their weight. The face was vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t quite place him… until he pulled down his hood. The blond hair, the angry face, yes, I knew who he was alright.

And he seemed to remember us as well.

“Wow! What a surprise! How long’s it been?” he said, stepping towards us. His voice and demeanor seemed friendly. The guns pointed at us didn’t. “Seems the saying’s really true, you really always meet twice! Let me introduce myself, since we keep running into each other. I’m Chad. This is my brother Tyler. What’s your name, pretty? And even more importantly, are you going to dance for us again? Should we just give you a stripper name since you seem to be so into that? How about Candy?”

I gritted my teeth.

“Not talking to us? Well, we’ll just go with Candy then!”

“It’s Alana,” I muttered.

“Alana… hmm… I like Candy better to be honest. And what about your friend? You kinda look like a John… John Winchester or something strong and classic like that.”

“Negan,” Negan said.

“Negan…” Chad repeated, slowly nodding to himself, “Fitting. I like that!”

“What do you want?” Negan said, laboriously pushing himself to his feet. The wound on his foot must hurt like crazy, but he didn’t show it.

“Stay down there, I like you below me, where you belong,” Chad said, giving Negan a shove that sent him back to the ground. I tried to catch him, but only managed to get tangled up with him. Chad ignored Negan’s cry and continued speaking. “To be honest, I thought I didn’t think I’d see you two again after last time, but seems like we haven’t been clear enough.”

“We didn’t take any more of your precious water,” I said, trying to look at him defiantly, which was kind of impossible, sitting on the ground, with cuffed hands and without weapons or shoes while he was strutting around above us, a pistol in his belt and his men pointing rifles at us.

He shook his head. “We all know this isn’t about the water, dearest Candy. You two are nothing but lowly thieves. Can’t say I care for it!”

“We didn’t take anything,” I muttered.

“Because our town is well guarded.”

“What are you going to do to us this time?” Negan asked.

“I haven’t come up with a proper punishment yet. You have any ideas?” He crouched down before me and took my chin between two fingers, caressing my cheek with his thumb.

“Well, I mean…” I said, moving out of his grasp, “since we didn’t take anything, you could just let us go with a slap on the fingers.”

Chad took a deep inhale and got back up to his feet. “You killed two of our brothers.”

“They would have killed us if we hadn’t defended ourselves,” I tried reasoning.

Chad nodded. “Right, technically… which brings us right back to the thing about the supermarket.”

I swallowed.

“How about you come upstairs with us, as long as I’m coming up with a punishment that fits the crime. I always think better with someone dancing for me.”

“Leave her the fuck alone,” Negan said, but Chad had already pulled me to my feet.

I saw stars for a moment and unsteadily held on to him to keep my balance.

“Oh right… you’re injured! How insensitive of me. Where’d we hit you?” He turned me around until he found the hole in my sweater and promptly proceeded to push his thumb into my wound.

I moaned, trying to squirm free of his grasp. The pain was so intense, I felt it all the way down to my toes.

“Hmm… so tight and moist,” Chad murmured, pushing even deeper.

I gritted my teeth. I wouldn’t cry. I wouldn’t give them that satisfaction.

Not now. Not ever!

He let go of me and held his bloody fingers up for me to see. “Be a dear, clean this off, will you?” He pulled me against him so my back faced his front and I had a good look at Negan and then put his thumb to my lips. “Come on, suck me off,” he repeated, pushing between my lips.

Only the rifles moving towards Negan made me open my mouth and let him push his finger into me. It couldn’t have felt more violated if he had pushed into me further down.

“Hmm… is she as good sucking other things?” Chad asked Negan over my shoulder. “Makes me imagine all kind of stuff I could make her do to pay off your debt.”

I squeezed my eyes closed and remained stiff as I could while he rubbed himself up and down against my ass, his thumb still in my mouth. He was hard as hard could be.

“Come on upstairs now, where it’s warm and comfy. You can take off all of your clothes there.”

I shot Negan a wide eyed glance.

“Oh you don’t like that idea? What would you rather have me do? Come on, tell me! Now’s your chance!” He pulled his thumb from my mouth, caressing my lips.

The guy Chad had introduced as Tylor moved towards Chad and whispered something to him.

“Oh! Right!” Chad said. “We recently found out, one of our brothers, Zack, he’s into guys. Would you rather we take your friend Negan and make him take off all his clothes? I mean… No one should accuse us of not being inclusive!”

I gritted my teeth, not saying anything.

“Well, maybe we can send Zack down to your friend here while we’re upstairs with you! What about that? You speechless because of all the choices? I feel you, Alana! I feel you! Being a leader, satisfying everyone, it’s hard! That’s why I’m letting you make all the decisions today!”

“You already humiliated me. Just let us go,” I whispered.

“Alana, Alana, Alana,” Chad said, taking a deep inhale from against my hair. “You haven’t even seen the half of it.”

+++

We went upstairs. It was still cold outside, but it had stopped snowing.

The movement, in addition to the blood loss made me feel so dizzy, I had to hold on to Chad to keep upright. My arm was bleeding again, if the wet warmth all down to my fingers was any indication. How much blood could one lose through one bullet hole? How much blood could one lose before passing out? Before dying?

I had the feeling I was about to find out.

We had seen the house was big when they’d brought us there in the morning. From the inside, it felt even bigger. They led me in through a back door right next to the earth cellar they’d kept us in. There were doors left and right on the corridor we walked through, but they were all closed. The front hall had a big arch that led through to the spacious living room. I didn’t get any time to enjoy the house though.

One of Chad’s brothers uncuffed me and ungently pulled my sweater over my head, taking the makeshift bandage Negan had put on my arm with it.

I whimpered, trying to cover my chest, my bare arms, my wound. My teeth chattered, not only with cold. There seemed to be twenty men at least in the living room, all about the same age and giving off a similar vibe, which wasn’t a very friendly one. They were playing cards, smoking cigarettes and drinking, some were grinning at me.

If there were any other women in the house, they weren’t in the living room.

Standing among all the men, I felt more exposed than I had back at our cabin, even though I was still mostly dressed.

Blood kept on flowing down my arm. It was tingling and felt cold. I tried squeezing the wound shut with my other hand, but with every move, I kept slipping.

“Now look at the mess you’re making,” Chad said, motioning at the bloody trail I had left.

I swallowed.

“You’ll have to clean that up later, Candy.” He licked his lips. “Lonny! Where are you? We have someone for you to patch up!” In a lower voice he added “Lonny’s our specialist, when it comes to all women’s issues. You remember him, right?”

I nodded.

Lonny. Who hadn’t been able to keep his fingers where they belonged. How would I ever be able to forget him? Between bleeding to death and being patched up by him, I wasn’t sure which was the worse choice.

“And give her a rub down too. She’s dirty as fuck,” Chad added, once Lonny stepped into the room.

Those assholes didn’t have a single decent bone in their collective bodies.

Lonny grabbed me by my uninjured arm and pulled me after him, back through the corridor I had gotten in through and into a dirty bathroom on the right side. I had gotten used to things not being as clean as we had been used to during more civilized times, but this…

The mirror was almost blind with splashes of soap and water and fingerprints. Still, it was enough so I could see myself. My whole face was bruised and swollen and dirty. My nose looked crooked, my eyes tired.

Lonny stepped towards me, looking at the mirror over my shoulder. “You like what you see?” he muttered. The stink of beer and unbrushed teeth washed over me as he let his hands wander around my waist and upwards.

He cupped my breasts and I turned around and slapped him in the face. What was he thinking? I was fucking bleeding out and he was feeling me up…

Lonny didn’t lose a second and slapped me right back, hard enough it brought tears to my eyes. “Fucking bitch!” he cursed. “I wanted to do this the nice way, but we can play it ugly, if you want to! Take off your damn clothes!”

I wasn’t sure I had understood him right at first. My ears were ringing and the world seemed a little unsteady on its feet.

“What the fuck are you waiting for? You need another?” he raised his hand again.

I took a step backwards, lifting my arms to shield myself from him. “I…” my teeth chattered. “I’m bleeding…”

“I fucking noticed!” He motioned on the ground where a steady trail of blood drops lead towards me. “I’m not going to patch you up while you’re dirty like this.”

I swallowed. Was he being serious? Would he really patch me up? Or would he just…

“Hurry up, I haven’t got all day!”

I slowly unbuttoned my pants, keeping my gaze on him in case he decided to do anything, and pushed them down.

Someone else was coming inside and pouring a bucket of water into the dirty bathtub.

I kept my focus on Lonny, figuring he was the bigger danger, and pulled my filthy shirt over my head, dropping it to the equally filthy ground.

“Get in there,” Lonny ordered, pointing me at the bathtub. Dark scum lined the bottom and I wanted nothing more than to NOT step into it, but I feared my refusing to do what he was saying wouldn’t get me any results.

I stepped into the tub, into the icy cold water, shivering.

“Now fucking clean up,” Lonny continued.

“What?”

“Are you hard of hearing? Clean the fuck up!”

“It’s… cold…”

“What does this look like? A fucking spa?”

I crouched down, teeth chattering and started washing my hands. Blood was sticking under my fingernails… Negan’s, mine, the guy’s I had killed… who knew. Disgust made me shudder. “Can I have some soap?”

“Oh Jesus, I almost forgot… what a bad fucking host I am…” Lonny took a bar of soap from the sink and tossed it at me, hitting me hard.

Fucking asshole.

I bent down to pick it up and absentmindedly noticed how my blood dripped into the water, tinting it pink for just a moment before it dissolved.

Another guy came inside, carrying a bucket with water and casually, and without any kind of warning poured it over me.

“Fucking hell!” I screamed, jumping to my feet. The water was so cold, it felt like being stabbed with a million needles.

“You better get moving… there’s more coming,” Lonny laughed.

The new guy stopped next to Lonny and put the bucket to the ground, crossing his arms, mirroring Lonny’s amused expression.

My teeth were chattering as I bent down again, watching them watch me, to start scrubbing at my arms.

Another bucket of icy water was poured over me, lumps of snow still swimming in it.

Black spots started dancing over my vision. I didn’t know how long I would be able to keep this up.

“You’ll stay in there as long as any part of you is dirty,” Lonny, the sadistic son of a whore, explained. “ANY part at all,” he enunciated, grinning at me evilly. “If you’d like to keep your toes, I suggest you hurry up and get undressed.”

I stood up, hugging myself, shivering. “I’m all done,” I whimpered.

Lonny shook his head. “You’re definitely not,” he said and the others chimed in, telling me what a dirty, dirty girl I was.

“I never signed up to play this stupid game,” I said. I knew it was no use arguing with them, but I couldn’t just…

“You signed up when you killed Kevin and Ryan. Or was it your boyfriend who killed him? Either way, you’re paying the bill.”

My teeth chattered, I was shivering all over and my fingers were already turning blue-ish.

I swallowed and gritted my teeth as I made the decision. I hated to give them what they wanted, but I would pass out if I lost any more blood. I couldn’t pass out in a house full of these assholes. I needed them to patch me up and then find a way to run. At this point, even standing still was getting hard.

Cheers filled the room as I reached behind my back, unhooking my bra. I turned so my back faced the room, but I still felt incredibly exposed. If I ever got out of here alive, I would fucking kill them. Each and every single one of them.

Fucking assholes.

My head was pulled back roughly and I lost my balance in the slippery tub. I tried holding on to the wall, but slipped and only just managed to catch myself before my head hit the edge of the tub.

The next bucket was poured over my chest.

I wanted to cry out, but I didn’t have the breath for it.

+++

When I woke up again, I was in Negan’s arms.

Everything hurt.

“Are you awake?” Negan whispered.

I groaned in reply.

“Thank fuck you’re alive!” He squeezed me against him. I was folded up tightly in between his arms and legs, naked, a thin blanked wrapped around the both of us.

“What happened?” I whispered. My throat felt sore. I was freakishly cold. My arm felt puffy and pounded in time with my heartbeat.

“They tossed you back downstairs a while ago… naked and wet…”

Memories flooded my brain. The bathroom, the cold, the humiliation… I took a few breaths. What had they done to me while I’d been out? “How… how long was I gone?”

“Don’t know… it’s impossible to tell time down here… Try not to think about what happened…”

Only now did I realize his face was, once again, beaten and battered, as was his chest. His shirt hung on him in pieces.

“What did they do to you?” I asked.

“Let’s not talk about it,” he muttered, looking away. His voice sounded… different.

I struggled to wrap my arms around him, but found I could only properly move the right one. The left one hurt like shit and wouldn’t properly take my orders.

Hugging Negan one-armed, I tried to meet his eyes, but he averted his gaze.

Placing my uninjured hand to his face, I caressed his cheek. Whatever they had done to him, he hadn’t fared any better than I had.

I was oddly reminded of the aftermath of our first encounter with those fuckheads a few weeks ago. Only this time, they had us locked up and still at their whims.

We had to get the fuck out of here. The longer we were here, the more messed up their ideas would become. And I needed meds. My arm was most definitely infected.

+++

Negan gave me his ripped shirt, which left him in just his pants. His whole upper body was bruised and battered. The patch on his shoulder was bloody. He must be in a shitton of pain. I felt crazy lightheaded, but we had to get out of here. Quick.

The cellar had been cleared out before it had been made into a cell for us. There was nothing at all we could make into a weapon.

Good thing we didn’t need any weapon other than our combined anger. That would be more than enough.

We were living in perpetual twilight and our eyes were well adjusted to the dark. Whoever would come downstairs would need a few seconds to adjust. This was our one advantage. And we would use it.

They also hadn’t handcuffed us this time, probably figuring we were broken enough so they could get sloppy.

Big mistake!

There was movement outside. We got up and moved so we were hidden from view from the top of the stairs.

The door opened and footsteps came downstairs, only one set of footsteps. Good.

The others, one or more of them, were waiting upstairs. The odds weren’t good, admittedly, but we had to at least try. We couldn’t let them win without even a fight! And if they decided to kill us… better than being locked up down here for a minute longer.

Negan pulled the guy coming downstairs into the shade, out of view of the others. It didn’t go as silently as we had intended, but he managed to subdue him before the second guy came down, gun drawn.

I took the knife the first one had carried in his belt and waited until the second one was within reach as well before I jumped him and cut his throat.

No hesitation. No mercy.

They didn’t deserve mercy.

Negan dropped the guy he had dealt with and we undressed both.

Putting on pants and a jacket instantly made me feel a million times better. The clothes were much too big, but they were blessedly warm from their former owner. I put my freshly stolen knife back into the sheath on my freshly stolen belt and took a deep breath of air. Being as good as free, the air tasted different already.

Negan got dressed as well and was even lucky enough to find shoes that fit him. I had to be content with worn socks; worn, but warm!

We had clothes and weapons. Now all we needed was a car and we’d be gone.

We waited for just long enough to make sure no one else would come to check on the two guys.

Negan moved up the stairs first, rifle in hands. I waited for his all clear and then followed him.

It was the middle of the night. I didn’t want to even think about what those two fuckheads had come to us for. They surely hadn’t wanted to bring us breakfast! How could a bunch of people live together and each and every one of them be such an asshole?

The snow all around the house was stamped down from people’s feet moving around at all hours of the day.

My sock-clad footsteps were silent on the snow. Negan made a bit more noise, but there was no one about to hear us as we moved towards the front of the house.

My arm didn’t like all the exertion. I could feel every beat of my heart in it.

Negan limped, but was alright to walk by himself. I took that as a good sign.

We reached the street before the house and there, parking among their cars was our jeep. They hadn’t only imprisoned us, but stolen our car on top of that! That only added insult to injury.

Negan pulled the door open and gingerly got into the driver’s seat. I dropped into the passenger seat, pulling up my legs and hugging my knees. I was cold, dizzy, nauseous and had I said cold? I closed my eyes and leaned back. We were almost safe.

The engine started and I felt the car move.

“I need antibiotics,” I whispered, tiredly looking over at Negan.

He nodded, eyes remaining focused on the street. 

“And…”

He turned his head towards me.

“And,” I swallowed. I couldn’t tell for sure what had happened while I had been passed out. Everything hurt, no part more than the others, but they had brought me back to Negan naked, so I had to assume the worst… “Plan B, just to be sure…”

Negan nodded. “Rest,” he muttered, placing his hand on my shoulder. “I’ll take you home.”


	8. Getting better... or not?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The short, but telling aftermath.   
> Alana and Negan both survived their adventure. Injured but whole.

I was in bed. In our bed, in our room, in our house. Dizzy, hurt. My left arm felt like twice its original size and weight.

Groaning, I looked around to find Negan sitting in an armchair by the foot of the bed, snoring.

Someone else was in the room. A man. I knew him.

“You awake?” he said. “Here, have some water.”

Micah! Right! I reached for the glass he offered and felt ridiculous when he put a straw in my mouth. But it was so much easier…

“Here, take your meds too…” He took my hand and put a big white pill onto my palm. “So you’ll get well again.” It was odd. His touch was familiar, his taking care of me wasn’t. But it was his job now. He was our doctor.

“Is Negan okay?” I whispered. My voice sounded strange, even to myself.

Micah nodded. “We had to patch him up again, but nothing got infected…”

I took the pill and swallowed it with some more water. Being awake was a hassle. I rolled over and closed my eyes again.

+++

The next time I woke, Negan was in bed next to me. He held my hand in his sleep as if he was afraid I would run away.

Running… was that a thing I had ever done? Because I felt way too tired for that. I wiggled my toes a bit. There, that was enough exercise.

+++

_A pressure on top of me, holding me immobile. Laughter and cheering. Hands. So many hands… The pressure lifted. A dark shape loomed over me. Its evil grin incredibly wide and white. I was cold. My body was moved, but not by my own muscles. Hands, strong hands, ungentle hands. I wanted to tell them to let go, but I couldn’t move. Then pressure again. And…_

“Shhhh….” Negan said. “It was just a dream.” He was sitting on the bed next to me, half dressed, and had obviously been about to get up. He didn’t wear a bandage on his shoulder. My crude stitches were still in. The skin on his shoulder looked pink and healthy. The skin on his face looked ashy and tired.

How long had I been out?

“What day is it?” I asked, my voice hoarse with disuse.

I experimentally moved my left hand and arm. Everything seemed to be in working order. Painful, but working!

“We got back four days ago,” Negan’s voice was low. “How do you feel?”

I swallowed. How did I feel? “I don’t know”

“You wanna get up? Walk a couple steps?” Negan got up and pulled a shirt over his head before extending his hand towards me. The bruises on his torso had almost faded. Good.

I hesitated before moving towards the edge of the bed.

My head felt stuffy, my limbs weak, but felt better than I had in a while. And I had Negan to hold on to. Nothing could go wrong.

He walked me through the house, stayed with me when I used the bathroom and then took me into the kitchen. I was so hungry!

There were cold noodles with tomato sauce in a small pan. I wolfed both down without bothering to warm it. It was the greatest food I had ever eaten. Negan watched over me and when I was done, he moved to get something from the pantry.

“That’s the stuff you used to drink back home, right?” he said, presenting me with a tetra pack of coconut water.

I slowly nodded and felt my face split into a broad grin. Unscrewing it with stiff fingers, I took a couple greedy gulps. It felt like… normalcy! With a satisfied sigh, I screwed the lid back on.

“Where is everyone?” I asked, wiping my mouth.

“Hunting,” Negan said. “Scavenging… We’re almost out of everything…”

I cast down my eyes. We were starving and all I did was sleep…

Negan sat down on the chair next to me and took my hand. “You can’t believe how worried I was,” he said, kissing my knuckles. “Seeing you in that bed, half dead… I couldn’t take losing you! It would fucking destroy me.”

He moved close and put his arms around me before pressing a kiss on my lips.

My heartbeat sped up.

He was holding me. I couldn’t get away.

“P…. please let go,” I whispered, voice shaky.

Negan pulled back and looked at me, confusion plainly written on his face.

“I’m sorry,” I jumped to my feet and hurried towards the back door. It was locked. Why was it locked? I needed air! “Where’s the key?” I cried out.

Negan got up and took the key from its hook by the door. It had been out in plain sight and yet…

My hands shook so hard, I dropped the key twice before Negan took over and unlocked the door for me. I tore open the door and took deep breaths of icy air. What was happening?

Negan touched my shoulder, worry plain on his face, and I stepped out of his reach. “Please don’t touch me,” I whimpered.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I… I don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was it with the second installment of this story.  
> Third one is already written and only needs to be edited. It will be a little shorter than the first two installments and I'll try to post it over the course of the next week as after that, it's back to school for me and I won't have as much time to write, I guess...   
> So... stay tuned! <3
> 
> And let me know what you thought of the whole story!


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